What The Door Conceals
by kaworu nagisa
Summary: In a corner of FFdotnet, there is a door. Many wonder what the door hides, and few actually dare enter to find out what the door conceals . . . but there are those that do. Welcome to the Canon Containment Centre. We hope you like it here. -megacrossover-
1. Trapped

**A/N – **read chapter one! :D it's been rewritten ~

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><p>What The Door Conceals<br>by **quicksilver rain**

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><p>Prologue - Trapped<br>[ also known as In the Sue Headquarters ]

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><p>"#§$%!" hissed Jolyn, sucking in a breath. My own was becoming shallow, heart thumping furiously against my ribcage.<p>

"Guys, listen," I whispered urgently, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my leg. They all leaned in; even Alli stopped trying to yank my leg off. "You guys need to get out of here. That day, when Victoria briefed me, she gave me a Babylon candle."

"_What_?" their unanimous shock was evident on their faces.

"How's that possible?" demanded Alli. "There aren't supposed to be any more in existence!"

"No time to explain," I ground out, gritting my teeth. "You need to use the Babylon candle and _get out_."

"NO." Jess snapped. "We're not leaving you here, Vem."

"Yeah," chipped in Jay. "It's either we all leave, or we _don't_ leave."

I sighed at their obstinacy and sought out Melissa in the group. More than often, she was the only one with any common sense amongst all of us. Our eyes met, and behind her frameless glasses she gave me a stiff nod. A nod of agreement. A nod of friendship. She reached for my hand and squeezed it, tightly, and I slipped the candle into her palm, along with Ariadne's spool of thread.

"Anyone has a lighter?" I asked the group at large.

"Don't even think about it," Cassiel scowled. He yanked hard at the metal jaws chomping down on my lower leg, but to no avail. It simply refused to budge.

"There's no time," I cried. "There's no time left. Ebony will be here anytime soon, the trap probably set off a million alarms with it." Cassiel squeezed my shoulder, his green eyes not once leaving mine.

"We're not leaving without you," he whispered, his tone serious. I shut my eyes to block out the impenetrating green. "Just go, Cassiel. Go now before you regret it - "

And at this moment, the bars clamped down on every exit.

"_Shit!_" I swore as green mist began flooding the room - the same green mist that covered Dark Island, that prevented all magic from working in the room. I clenched my fists. It was too late.

And then a voice, ringing out of the smoke - "Well, _this_ is a pleasant surprise."

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><p><strong>AN** - prologue prologue prologue. /nods

review review review! XD


	2. The Canon Containment Centre

**A/N** – another rewrite, another rewrite! /sings

yeah hi, it's me again, Isabelle, previously xoxoisabelle / crackin' keeper and now **quicksilver rain** slash **the games have begun** [ for hunger games march! :D ] Don't you just _love_ penname changes? ;)

and I've been getting really few reviews D: I got one for the rewrite of _Silhouette of Dreams_ and another for _Just Another Demigod._ Shoutouts to the amazing people who caused this - The Innocent Little Human, and Madrigrl39. ;-; don't you people like me? /sniff

So some changes in this version. It's going to be from _one_ person's point of view, but everyone who submitted will still appear. And the main character isn't me, by the way XD I realized how ridiculous self-inserts were a while back.

this is dedicated to my lovely sister, whom I love more than anything in the world(:

pleasepleaseplease review :D

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><p>What The Door Conceals<br>by **quicksilver rain**

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><p>Chapter One - The Canon Containment Centre<br>[ also known as What The Door Conceals ]

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><p><strong>i.<strong>  
>In a corner of FF•net, there is a door.<p>

This door is ignored by most, but some actually bother to take time to stop and stare at it, wondering, always wondering. What does the mysterious door conceal? Nobody knows, except those who dare wander in. Few actually do, though, so the door just remains there, while people bustle around in their fast-paced lives.

However, there _are_ those who do enter. These people are all Protectors, and from that we split into our individual roles - Carer, Experimenter, Reviewer, Miner, Incinerator, Flamer, Archivist, Unspeakable. We're all protectors of the Canons, the characters from books that are written about and abused _every single day._ It's hard to explain why we do what we do - it's probably about the same as standing up for a kid being bullied. It's safe to say that we generally feel overprotective of them, because they were our friends too, back during our childhood days when you came away from reading a book and feeling as if they were your best friends.

If you're one of those wanting to save the Canons, then you've come to the right place.

Welcome to the Canon Containment Centre. We hope you like it here.

**ii.**  
>It's safe to say that the third of March, 2012, changed my life entirely. That was the day when I found the door.<p>

The third of March happens to be a legendary date, the day when Dramione shippers declared official war against the Romione shippers. I myself happen to be extremely defensive of my ships, but I'm a Harmonian, so this didn't affect me in the least. Downtown was a nightmare, and people were shrieking on the streets, fists pumping in the air with signs that read stuff like _Dramione sucks_ and _Ron Weasley is Pathetic_ or equally catchy slogans. FF•net officials were trying very hard to separate the two masses from clashing, while I slunk past like I didn't exist.

The Canons themselves were nowhere to be seen. No one had sighted _any_Canon whatsoever since last year, and there was much speculation as to where they could be. They'd literally vanished, leaving no traces. There was a column in the Daily Prophet which kept up with such news as to where the Canons could be, and at first there'd been guesses such as alien abductions and stuff. But alien abductions didn't count for the disappearance of E.T., so we got rid of that theory. They couldn't have been Vanished, or taken to Danu Talis. The speculations grew fewer and fewer and recently, the column had been completely empty.

Ever since the Canons' disappearance, the entire atmosphere of FF•net had taken a drastic toll; what used to be a cheerful and lively place where everyone existed in peace had been tossed into pandemonium. There were riots every other day, with fangirls cat-fighting in the streets, and of course, the amount of bad fics flocking in had been aplenty. _I wonder how Draco and Hermione and Ron are coping,_ a subconscious part of my mind told me. Because I knew that where I was wasn't the only place with trouble.

All over FF•net, people were protesting and publicly demonstrating, and in my District, everyone was busily clustered in Toon Town, where the buildings were smoking and screams pierced the air. Sirens were wailing and people were sobbing, and the entire of Toon Town was thrown into chaos. On my usual walks, Toon Town was where I usually stopped for a cup of coffee, but everywhere was shut down and boarded over today. Dismayed, I continued on my walk, strolling aimlessly down the neatly paved roads.

I turned the corner, only to flatten myself immediately against a street sign as Aurors went charging past, straight into the heart of Toon Town. The scenery around me had changed, so I glanced up at the sign behind me. I was on Fleet Street, not far from Sweeney Todd's barber shop. It was a few blocks away at most. Generally, I didn't take this route, but it led home all the same so it didn't matter much. With dread in my heart, I ambled down the street and came to a stop before the barber shop.

The windows were boarded up, and a sign tacked to the door read "CLOSED". Similarly, next door, Mrs. Lovett's pie shop had been shut down. I blinked, hard. _Where are all the Canons?_

I resumed my saunter down the boardwalk. _Well, I hope they're happy, wherever they are,_ I thought to myself as I strolled down the deserted street. No one else was here, because they were all caught up in the action back in Toon Town. Around me, the street morphed to Privet Drive, and I emerged back onto concrete pavement from cobblestone.

Two years ago, if I'd taken this route, I'd be able to see Mrs. Figg clipping away at her hedge with secateurs, and if I were lucky, maybe the Dursleys gardening or driving from the house. Now all the houses were empty, their residents having moved away to some mysterious place. I sighed and continued walking as the world around me changed once more.

I was now in the village of Little Fledging, and glancing back at Privet Drive, I decided that the latter was a better place to be in, even if it was all empty suburban landscape. Because Little Fledging was literally a ghost town. Fire crackled in the village square, with their annual Thornthwaite doll burning amongst the flames, hair a skein of black wool and green button eyes. But there was nobody around burning it. Glancing to my right, I saw Father Whelan's shed, fallen into a state of despair. Bagshaw's End was a similar sight, and the Thornthwaite manner loomed high above me on the hill. I flagged the bus and climbed on obediently, being the only passenger. The driver had his case with him.

"Going somewhere?" I asked him, curiously.

He nodded. "I'm going somewhere were no one can't hurt me no more. You're my last passenger. Thornthwaite Manor?"

I nodded back, and he floored the accelerator, taking me up the bumpy path to the manor. If he was telling the truth, this would be the last time he took this route. "Um, sir? Where are you going?" I asked him carefully. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.

"If you don't know, you only have to ask. And if you ask, then you'll never know." I remembered this to be what the Grey Lady had said, and understood that he did not want to tell me. He _couldn't_ tell me, to be more accurate. I had to find out myself.

I twisted the hem of my shirt between my fingers. "Thank you."

He gave me a small smile. "You're welcome." He pulled over in the driveway to the manor, and waited patiently as I slung my bag over my shoulder, pulled out my coin purse and dug through the rupees, ringgits, quarters, euros and whatever nationality coins I had, and finally, I handed him a pound coin. He accepted it and handed me ten pence change.

I climbed off the bus and stood before the open door. "Have a safe journey, sir."

He smiled. "You too, child. You too." Then he pressed a button, the doors swung shut, and he was off to wherever he was going. I watched the bus rattle its way down the hill, and even when it was gone, stared down at the village. In that second, I made my decision before turning around and stepping into the manor.

The world shifted to downtown Manhattan, where there was _some_ form of life at least. Pigeons flapped around me as I doggedly stalked towards the Plaza Hotel, where now, even the bronze statue of a half-naked Pomona was missing from the fountain in the courtyard. All that was left was a metal pear rolling around as pigeons pecked at it and tried to dent the metal.

"Greetings, Miss Walker," said the receptionist, observing a stack of papers as I stepped up to the counter.

"Yes, er, hi. I'd like to check out."

The clerk turned to look at me now, peering over rimless spectacles skeptically. "Is that so."

I squared my shoulders. "Yes. I'm . . . moving."

"Ah." She still sounded slightly doubtful, but her hands reached for the phone receiver. "Any hotel I can call for you to make a booking? The Waldorf Asteria, maybe even the Hilton, or -"

"No!" I burst out, and her eyes flashed to me, regarding me. I flushed red. "No, I'd just like to check out."

Her tone was curt, and her lip curled. "Very well."

I checked out of the top floor suite, and within an hour I was packed and ready to leave. The same clerk offered to call a taxi for me with that same sneer on her face, but I declined, saying that I'd walk. She gave a short, derisive laugh at this and flapped her arm at me dismissively. I supposed that since I was no longer a guest at the hotel, she was no longer obliged to be polite to me. Shrugging, I stepped from the hotel and once more commenced my favorite activity - walking.

The steady hum of my luggage's wheels against the pavement once more reminded me that I had no idea where I was headed. _If you ask you'll never know._ I supposed that it would appear to me somehow or the other.

Then I recalled what the Grey Lady had meant when she spoke those words. She had been referring to the Room of Requirement. _Now, surely the Canons can't be hiding in Hogwarts, we investigated every single possible site in that castle, and every possible form of the Room,_ my more rational side argued. But there definitely was _something_ . . . how did the Room appear to its seeker again?

_I need to find a place where Canons are safe,_ I thought fiercely. _I need to find a place where we can all roam freely, where I can help to protect them from the dangers in this world. _I swallowed. It wasn't working. _I need to find a paradise . . . _

For a while, nothing happened. I sighed and gave up, walking down the road. I recognized where I was headed, the Upper East Side. When I strolled past Yancy Academy I felt a strange tingling in the base of my stomach. Glancing up, I furrowed my brow, but continued walking.

Percy's apartment. Same tingle. I pressed a hand to my abdomen, convinced that I was having some form of gastric flu. Better find a toilet quick. I hurried down the pavement, looking left and right for a restroom.

I was around Serena van der Woodsen's penthouse area when it happened.

As I was glancing back and forth desperately, something happened that made me do a double take. A door appeared where it hadn't been seconds before. Were I on a usual walk, I probably would have ignored it. But this was special. It reminded me of the Room's magic, how it appeared to people in need. Stomachache forgotten, I took a step towards the door with wide eyes. _This is it._ I could feel that much. There was a small sign on the door, covered in a mess of alphabets, and as I squinted at it, the letters rearranged themselves into four words.

_The Canon Containment Centre._

And suddenly, it just all clicked.

I stretched out a hand and pulled open the door, and since then, I haven't looked back once.

**iii.**  
>The room was pitch black, without even the faintest traces of light. Confused, I took a tentative step forwards, and the door slammed shut behind me.<p>

Now I panicked. I lunged for the doorway, but it had disappeared without a trace. I palmed the walls desperately for an exit, searching for a doorknob or some contraption or the other - but all I found was nothing. Nothing at all.

Despairing now, I started to choke for air, but suddenly my foot caught on something, and I stumbled, reaching out for the wall to break my fall. But I didn't fall against a wall. I fell straight onto a chair.

_What_?

There was a low whirring sound, the sound of machinery starting up. I clung to my chair in fright.

But it was only a projector coming to life, projecting a grainy, black-and-white video onto a plaster wall. In spite of myself, I was curious and relaxed slightly, though my fingers gripped the chair so tight my knuckles went white. Carefully, cautiously, I turned around to face the wall as six words flashed onto the screen, black text on a white background.

"Welcome to the Canon Containment Centre," a pleasant female voice said as the curly-whirly text morphed into a set of pictures. I gave a small gasp, these faces I recognized. I knew all their names by heart - Katniss Everdeen, Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Jace Herondale, Amy Cahill. _What are they doing here?_

"We're a small group dedicated to saving the fandoms of FF•net - cleaning out the fandoms one by one. That's our motto," the female voice continued. "If you're here, you must have shown zeal and passion and you're willing to sacrifice your old life to save the Canons. So, new recruit, I applaud you, and here at the CCC we welcome you with open arms."

"Now, onto a more important part of this presentation - the history of the centre. The Canon Containment Centre, also known as the CCC, was founded by a group of teenage girls who discovered this hideout. At first, the place served no purpose. It was a large campus with no clear objective. So the girls stayed here until one fine day, when Katniss Everdeen decided to pay a visit."

The video zoomed in tight on Katniss' face, and suddenly, the image started moving. It depicted Katniss streaking across the chaotic streets as people screamed in the background behind her. "Depicted here we have Katniss Everdeen on the seventeenth of February, 2011." The date stirred some sort of recognition in my mind, and finally I had it. Back at Constance Billard, it was compulsory for us to study the history of FF•net, and this date was one that we actually witnessed, a date that went down in history. That day was known as the day of Fire, because Galeniss shippers and Peetniss shippers decided to take it unto themselves to convince Katniss to choose their biases.

To prove their passion, Peeta supporters burned down the Hundred Acre Wood whilst declaring that Peeta was the Boy on Fire, evoking much panic from the residents of the wood. One notable casualty was that of Winnie the Pooh, who was later restored to life by Thanatos. Whilst screaming that Gale was the coal that Katniss' fire needed to burn on, Gale stans wielded flaming pieces of coal. The face-off was in District 12, with both sides practically knocking down Katniss' front door. While Katniss struggled to escape, one of the Gale-biased people tripped; her piece of coal went skittering, and then sent the entire Hob up in flames. During the confusion, Katniss started to run, and after a while of being chased, she disappeared. Now I know where she went.

"All know that the seventeenth of February was a day of darkness for all of us," intoned the female voice. "And, driven to near insanity, Katniss began crying for a place - a home, where she could be safe forever. And so the door presented itself to her."

Onscreen, Katniss crawled towards the door, tears streaking down her soot-stained cheeks as she dragged her way painfully towards safety. "She collapsed on the doorstep, and when our founders discovered her, they immediately knew what they wanted to do with the place. This is how the Canon Containment Centre was born."

The video zoomed out, and we were back at the collage of faces. "Next was Nico di Angelo." The panel with Nico's face lights up while the others darken. "Nico was the next Canon to seek refuge with us. However, unlike Katniss, he was scouted instead of him coming to us."

The image rippled, and Nico di Angelo was lying on the pavement in the middle of a circle of girls, all of whom were fighting for him. He was bruised and cut and bloody and exhausted, and he slumped, his cheek against the cold cement, as the girls continued bitching and screeching at the top of their lungs.

"Nico's _mine_!"

"No, he's _mine, _you retard!"

"Piss-face!"

"Fu - "

"Excuse me, coming through." A girl's cold voice cut through their squabbling, and they all looked up to see an Asian girl glaring at all of them. The image froze, and the voiceover continued.

"Depicted here is one of our founders, Victoria, also current chairperson of Head Command. At the time of the incident she was fifteen, and has the ability to see through the Mist."

The image unfroze, and Victoria bent down to touch Nico's jugular. "He's still breathing," she exhaled in relief, and called to her friend. "Hey! Sherry! Bring a stretcher here, he's practically unconscious." She tried to lift Nico's denim-clad legs off the ground, but several people moved forward to stop her.

"Oh, dearie," snipped the first girl who stepped up and placed a hand on Victoria's arm. She had flowing blonde hair and clear, sparkling blue eyes - I saw it in an instant. This girl was no ordinary fangirl. She was a Mary Sue. "You don't want to do that." Her eyes suddenly flashed golden. "Now just give me Nico - "

Victoria looked at her almost lazily. "Oh, knock it off. It won't work on me. _Sherry!_ Will you _hurry up_?"

Seizing her chance, the second girl scampered forwards. When she spoke, her voice was layered - soprano, alto, tenor and bass all in one, ringing out. She was harnessing the power of the _mesmer_. "Darling," she simpered, her strangely musical voice not once wavering, "why don't you just give me Nico? He's my boyfriend, you know - "

"I wouldn't believe you for all green caterpillars in Loompaland," Victoria rolled her eyes. "Come _on_, Sherry!"

Finally another girl emerged into the scene, lugging a stretcher which was scraping against the floor. "This thing is heavy," she grumbled. Together, she and Victoria hoisted the unconscious Nico di Angelo onto the stretcher and another group of people carried him away, leaving the crowd of Mary Sues gaping after them in utter shock.

Percy and Annabeth arrived together, closely followed by Jace, and then Amy. Slowly but surely, Canons from all over FF•net began to trickle in, until almost all of them were in the Canon Containment Centre. "Here's a member of Head Command, Sherry, also Head Unspeakable, to introduce you to occupations here at the CCC." The female voice concluded.

"Hello," said Sherry, appearing onscreen. She was about Victoria's age, fifteen-sixteen-ish. Her expression was completely serious as she spoke. "Welcome to the CCC, new recruit. My name is Sherry and I'm vice-chairperson of Head Command, also Head Unspeakable." Her mouth was a hard line. "Here at the CCC, we have several ranks - the topmost being Head Command, in which we have the Heads of various departments, as well as three generals. Next, there's the Senior rank, followed by Junior, and then new recruits, which means you."

"The CCC is separated into several departments - there's the Miners, who dig up fan fiction; the Incinerators, who ever-so-nicely persuade authors to remove terrible stories; the Flamers, who are our last resort for nutcase authors; the Reviewers, who give good authors, what they deserve; the Carers, who tend to the Canons; the Archivists, who are in charge of the Library; the Experimenters, who are our authors; the Unspeakables, who work in the Rooms; and finally there are those who may choose to enter the Training Centres, the more, ah, explosive part of the CCC." Sherry's dry wit made me stifle a smile. "Now that you've entered the CCC, you have to pick one area of interest that you would like to specialize in, and you will major in it. Sort of like in school."

"You will be guided through the education process by your Heads, and once you're ready, you will start work immediately." Sherry said, her tone brisk and curt. "Everyone here serves a purpose, and if you do not fulfill your requirements, you will be convicted and tried before the panel." Her voice turned ominous. "And I think that's all. Oh, and one more thing - " her eyes went cold. " - do _not_, and I repeat, _do not_go into the Rooms."

A chill went down my spine as the video blinked out and the lights on the ceiling came on. I was in some form of reception area, with cream colored walls and beige leather sofas. There was a counter at one end, and I headed towards it, where a girl was tapping away at the keys on her computer stonily. Her name tag identified her as Jolyn.

"I suppose you'd like to sign up for the tours." There was no malice or sarcasm in her tone, only pure boredom. I nodded.

"Uh, yes?"

"State your name."

". . . Verity. Verity Walker."

She jotted it down. "And your area of interest?"

"Mm . . ." I thought about it for awhile. ". . . Caring. I'd like to be a Carer, please."

"Okay. Well, you see that we don't have a Head Carer as of yet, so you'll need to join Pads as she takes the budding Experimenters on the tour."

"Okay." I echoed obediently. _This job was made for me._ _I'm going to try really hard for Head Carer._ "So . . . where do I go?" Jolyn blinks and looks up at me, as if she hadn't anticipated my question.

"Just straight down the hall."

"Okay." I turned to leave. "And thank you," I added as an afterthought. Jolyn just grunted, and with a smile on my lips, I turned and headed down the corridor.

**iv.**  
>As of recent, we're receiving more and more recruits. More people are realizing how terrible it is out in the streets and are wishing for a better place - and of course, that's where <em>we<em> come in.

This month alone, we've had over a hundred people pass through that door, more than I've ever seen in the six months I've been at the CCC. Lots of them want to be Carers, and as Head Carer I've certainly had my hands extremely full. Majority of our newest bunch of recruits, hailing from the 39 Clues fandom and who call themselves The Nellie Gomez Foundation, want to be Carers. But they're a secretive bunch, highly untrusting. From the state of their home fandom, which is still better than most, I don't exactly blame them. But Dem, one of our generals, demands a report on them by the end of the week. I'm running on a tight schedule, which is not exactly helpful to the amount of sleep I get each night. Either I get the NGF to loosen up or I face Dem's wrath. The former sounds like an easier job.

Around this time of the year, I'm interviewing people for the position of Senior Carer - right now I'm considering two prospectives - Joelle8 and Queen Alexandera's Birdwing. Both are very conscious of the state of FF•net and they're very caring towards the Canons. I don't know who to pick, so that's another problem adding to my workload.

Sometimes I just feel like giving up but I know I _can't_ for the sake of all the Canons and everyone else in the CCC. They'd be so disappointed, especially the other Carers, and Head Command, who elected me as Head Carer. So for everyone, no matter how painful it is, I plaster a smile on my face daily and greet everyone with a warm hug and kind words. Right now, it's the only thing that keeps me sane.

**v.**  
>"Verity Walker. Cleared."<p>

The stamping contraption presses down on my skin, and when I pull my arm from the box, it has a schedule inked on it in purple. This device was designed by Beetee, to emulate the counterparts of these devices in District Thirteen during the rebellion. Likewise, everything is laid out orderly and the ink doesn't dissolve till bath time, which for me is at six today. Wow, early. Once my shower was at midnight.

Everything is organized so well that everybody flows seamlessly into the schedule. Everyone reaches everything on time, and there are hardly glitches, or problems nowadays. Life is peaceful but hectic, but I kind of like it this way. I still remember what I prayed for, that day in Manhattan, while I was searching for the door. I prayed for somewhere we could all roam freely. I got it. I prayed for somewhere I could take care of Canons, to help protect them. I got that too.

I prayed for a paradise. And I got that too.

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><p><strong>AN** - this is just a scene-setter, the real action starts next chapter :D some people's characters already made appearances in this chapter, more will appear in the next! So review, people, so I'll update faster :P

At the end of every chapter, in case anyone's confused, I'll be putting up a list of what fandoms / books I referenced to, and what references were included(: aren't I nice? :D

**dramione** – pairing name for Draco Malfoy / Hermione Granger [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>romione<strong> – pairing name for Ron Weasley / Hermione Granger [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>harmionian<strong> – shippers of Harry Potter / Hermione Granger [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>daily prophet<strong> [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>E.T. <strong>[ E. T. the Extra-Terrestrial ]  
><strong>danu talis<strong> [ Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel ]  
><strong>toon town  toontown** [ Who Framed Roger Rabbit ]  
><strong>aurors<strong> [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>sweeney todd <strong>[ The Demon Barber of Fleet Street ]  
><strong>mrs. lovett  nellie lovett** [ The Demon Barber of Fleet Street ]  
><strong>privet drive<strong> [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>mrs. figg<strong> [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>the dursleys <strong>[ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>little fledging<strong> [ The Thornthwaite Inheritance ]  
><strong>father whelan<strong> [ The Thornthwaite Inheritance ]  
><strong>bagshaw's end<strong> [ The Thornthwaite Inheritance ]  
><strong>thornthwaite manor<strong> [ The Thornthwaite Inheritance ]  
><strong>the grey lady<strong> [ Harry Potter ]  
><strong>yancy academy<strong> [ Percy Jackson and the Olympians ]  
><strong>serena van der woodsen <strong>[ Gossip Girl ]  
><strong>katniss everdeen<strong> [ The Hunger Games ]  
><strong>nico di angelo<strong> [ Percy Jackson and the Olympians ]  
><strong>percy Jackson<strong> [ Percy Jackson and the Olympians ]  
><strong>annabeth chase<strong> [ Percy Jackson and the Olympians ]  
><strong>jace herondale<strong> [ Mortal Instruments ]  
><strong>amy cahill<strong> [ The 39 Clues ]  
><strong>constance billard<strong> [ Gossip Girl ]  
><strong>galeniss<strong> – pairing name for Gale Hawthorne / Katniss Everdeen [ The Hunger Games ]  
><strong>peetniss<strong> – pairing name for Peeta Mellark / Katniss Everdeen [ The Hunger Games ]  
><strong>the hundred acre wood<strong> [ The Aventures of Winnie the Pooh ]  
><strong>winnie the pooh<strong> [ The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh ]  
><strong>district 12<strong> [ The Hunger Games ]  
><strong><em>mesmer <em>**[ Artemis Fowl ]  
><strong>loompaland<strong> [ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory ]  
><strong>beetee <strong>[ The Hunger Games ]  
><strong>district 13<strong> [ The Hunger Games ]


	3. Head Command

**A/N** – planning on starting a brand new RemusXOC, what do you people think?(: I can already hear the boo-ing ;) ah, well, whoever's interested in beta-ing, PM me, yes? :D

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><p>What The Door Conceals<br>by **quicksilver rain**

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><p>Chapter Two - <em>Head Command<em>  
>[ also known as The Meeting ]<p>

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><p><strong>i.<strong>  
>According to my schedule, the first task I have today is Caring with Nico di Angelo. The mere word brings a smile to my face. <em>Caring. <em>What with all the recruits and budding Carers nowadays, I rarely have time in between the tours and demos to actually do some Caring myself. I scan my schedule briefly - after Caring, I'm to fetch Captain Holly Short from the Rooms.

The Rooms give me shivers, honestly. No one but the Unspeakables and Head Command know what go on in there, but only the Unspeakables have actually _been_ in there. It's our last resort - where we take the Canons when they're hurt beyond repair. The other day Iggy, one of our Maximum Ride Canons, started shrieking. He's one of the fan favorites, and hence more susceptible to terrible OC fics. We had to move him to the Rooms, which are underground, and where they're healed, slowly, until they're fit enough to return to ground level.

There are two places where recruits are told specifically to avoid - the Rooms, and the Dungeons. The Dungeons are where we house the OOCs - twisted Canons that came crawling to us when they were on the brink of insanity, then went rabid. These are the Canons we failed to save, those that were mutilated beyond help by their fangirl authors. The Dungeons are terribly creepy, with the OOCs moaning and snatching at your hair as you go by. There was once an OOC Annabeth who grabbed my hair and refused to let go while I just screamed and screamed. Since then, I've taken all costs to avoid that place.

I leave the main centre and emerge onto the grounds. The Care Centres are about a few minutes' walk from the main centre, which is linked to the dormitories. Everyone but the Unspeakables and the Miners stay in the dormitories, the Unspeakables stay in a separate block while the Miners live in a bungalow above the Mines themselves. Our grounds are vast, magically expanded over the years by some of the Canons who have magical powers. I hear some loud cheering, and turn my head to look at the Quidditch pitch, where the Miners are playing versus the Experimenters. Our next match is tomorrow, versus the Incinerators. In order to make sure that there are still people carrying out their jobs during the matches, we have specially scheduled Quidditch Support Events, and to ensure that everyone who's part of either department gets to watch, they support in shifts. As I said, everything here at the CCC is extremely organized.

We have some excellent Quidditch players who are also Carers, including Danielle, Marcus, and Cassiel. Danielle's our Seeker, she's small but fast, Marcus is our Keeper, and Cassiel is one of our Chasers slash Captain. They're the best, but the others are fine too - Alyss Lane is another Chaser, then there's the two Beaters - Faye and Carlos - and finally there's Charisse, also known as Char. Cassiel originally wanted me on the team, but firstly, he only wanted me on because of our long standing friendship (Yeah. We're friends. _Just_ friends, so don't go getting any strange ideas.) and secondly, I can't fly for nuts. Seriously.

And while our main job may be Caring, we _do_ Experiment and Review and other things, though not so much in abundance, because Caring is still our specialty. Other people like Experimenters, Reviewers, Incinerators and so on. The only people who are exclusive to their jobs are the Miners and the Unspeakables.

I sidle up to the front door of the Care Centres, and flash my pass at the scanner. "Verity Walker. Cleared." As a member of Head Command, I have clearance to most things that others don't, except for the Training Centres. What goes on in there is a mystery to everyone but Victoria and Sherry, who are two out of three founders. The last founder is a complete secret, and she works in the Training Centre. The main populace of the CCC knows nothing whatsoever about her, and Head Command knows close to nothing - nothing except her name. Mara White.

The door swings outwards, and I step through. There are some Carers bustling past in the sterile while corridor.

"Hey, Verity."

"Hey," I respond with a smile.

"Hello, Verity!"

"Morning."

"Hi, Vem."

I roll my eyes at the stupid nickname he coined for me months back, but I can't stop the smile that spreads involuntarily across my face. "Good morning, Cassiel. Where are you headed off to?"

He brushes bronze hair from his emerald green eyes. "I'm Caring for Rosalie Hale today."

"Ah," I say, a pang of jealousy going through me instantly as I think of how beautiful Rosalie is. "I see."

Cassiel grins at me cheekily, knowing what I'm thinking about. "See you later."

"Mm." I return the smile, and then we head off in opposite directions. I stroll down the corridor towards the room at the far end, which has 'NICO DI ANGELO' printed against the door in bold black letters. I calm my breathing before pushing open the door and stepping into the room, the sharp sting of antiseptic hitting me. Trying my best not to pinch the bridge of my nose, I unhook the clipboard that's hanging from a nail beside the door and push the privacy curtain aside. "And how are you today, Nico?"

"Hey, Verity," he says nonchalantly, perched on the edge of his bed in his hospital gown, eyes fixed on the television screen before him. I angle myself slightly, zooming in on the news special currently showing.

"And we're live from Camp Half-Blood," the female newscaster is saying. The camera pans over the entire camp, which is in shambles and on fire. "Yesterday, a group of girls stormed the entire camp, supposedly searching for Nico di Angelo, who was rumored to have been hiding there. Jedi immediately took on the task of holding them back, but the girls managed to set fire to Cabin Eleven, and the fire soon spread rapidly. Half-melted droids which were said to have been assisting the Jedi have been found amongst the rubble, but there is no trace of the Jedi themselves save this lightsaber. We hope that no one has been injured and that there have been no casualties. Back to you, Betty."

"Thank you, Miranda. Now, reports from Hogwarts have said that - " with a sigh, Nico picks up the television remote and clicks the power button, so that the screen blinks out, before resting his head on his elbows dejectedly. Unsurely, I sit in the armchair by the metal bed, and scoot it closer to him.

"How're you, Nico?"

"I don't know what to think nowadays," he says finally, after a moment of silence. "I don't know what FF•net is coming to nowadays. It's just . . . it's just too much to take in at the moment. So what happens now? Now that everything is falling apart, Sues are rampant in the streets, and the Canons are starting to fade. They're just . . . they're just giving up. And I . . . I feel like giving up, too."

I detect the tiniest flicker in Nico's form, like he's a projected image, and instantly start to panic. You see, Canons can fade when they've given up all hope, when they're no longer willing to fight to be free, to fight against the Sues and fangirls. In the two years that the CCC has existed, we've had two Canons fade - and when they did, it was disastrous. The Canons started to think that fading was the only way to finally be at peace, and we Carers had a field day rushing around, trying to convince them not to. That time is now known as the Dark Days, and they were our darkest days, ever, because more than half the Canons were moved to the Rooms, and the bonfire which blazed in the main arena was so low it practically blinked out. Hestia, too, instead of trying to revive it, just sat there and watched as it grew lower and lower. That bonfire represents our hope and morale, and right now it's at a reasonable height, burning silver-blue. At the time, it was black, which further contributes to the name.

"Nico," I say, carefully, resting my hand on his arm. "There _is_ still hope, you know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right. Hope for what? Camp Half-Blood's been burned to the ground. FF•net is a war zone. There's _no_ hope, Verity, and you can't deny it."

I can't blame him, honestly. This boy has been in and out of the Rooms more times than anyone else, because he's another one of the fan favorites, and OC pairings are aplenty. He goes through immense pain daily, and it's rare that he even goes through a single night without being tortured. If anyone deserves to be negative, it's him. He's been through more than any fourteen-year-old should.

"Nico, you have to hold on," I say, softly. "You can't just give up like that, otherwise all this will have been for nothing. You've been through _so much_, Nico. And I know that you want it all to end but if you hold on for just a while longer, it _will_ end. The War is coming, Nico. After it, everything will be over. We'll be able to come out of hiding, and you can once more roam the streets without having to worry. All of us, we'll create a new FF•net together, rebuilding the city from the ashes, to create our paradise. _Together._ You want that, don't you?"

The War is another problem that we've been anticipating for a while now - the final clash between us and the Sues. Our numbers are growing, but so are theirs, and there's only so long before they find this hideout too, and destroy us completely. There were actually quite a few headquarters, with the CCC being the main base. For a while, we held out in District 13 well enough, before the Sues thought to look underground and found us. We tried Olympus, too, cutting off the connection between Olympus and America, but soon came the winged Sues . . . right now we only have two - this one, and Fowl Manor, with its state-of-the-art LEP technology. Our smarter Canons like Artemis Fowl, Foaly, Beetee, Wiress, and Annabeth are there, developing gadgets that we can use in the War, but they _do_ come to the CCC once in a while. We also tried Alicante once, but that was too obvious, and soon became overrun by Sues.

Nico sighs, pulls his arm gently away from me and lies down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "I guess." Slowly, he's coming back to normal - solid flesh and bone. I all but sag in relief.

"Good." I smile, genuinely glad. I lean back in my chair and pull off the pen hooked to the clipboard, clicking it. "So, any nightmares recently?"

"Just the same one," he says, eyes still on the ceiling. "You know, the one about Biana dying." He turns on his side, so that his back is facing me. Refusing to be discouraged, I open my mouth to speak, but he turns to face me once more, eyes wide. "Oh, and there's one more - I'm in this dark room, but I can feel myself restrained by silk bonds. And there's the smell of lilacs, and . . . there's a voice. It's very soothing . . . yet cutting at the same time, breaking down all your barriers, compelling you to obey. I don't know." Nico flops onto his back, spreadeagled against the duvet. "I don't know whether that's even a nightmare . . . it's just all so confusing."

"I see," I say softly, jotting down a few words, then pausing. "And how many times has this happened?"

"Twice this week," he answers. I nod and write down the number 2 beside what I've written earlier. His eyes search my face. "Verity, do you think . . . do you think it means something?"

"I can't be sure, Nico." I sigh. "At this stage, I can't be sure of anything, except for the fact that they're serving New York Deli in the cafeteria today."

He laughs briefly, shortly. "Thanks for the heads-up."

I smile back, pushing my chair back from the bed and consulting my watch. "Well, my time is up. Call me if you have any problems, okay?"

"Okay," he responds obediently. I pat his shoulder before yanking the sheet of paper off the clipboard, then proceeding to hang the clipboard beach up on the nail beside his door, a fresh Care Sheet exposed. I hear him sigh from the bed, and pause in the doorway, but there's nothing I can do for him now. I shake my head and move on.

**ii.**  
>It's eleven o' clock when I slide my tray onto the Head table in the cafeteria, the only item on my plastic red tray being an apple parfait. Everyone acknowledges me in some way or the other. The occupants of the table are Netishka, Head Reviewer; Pads, Head Experimenter; Iris, Head Flamer; Jeremy, Head Incinerator; Jess, Head Miner; Fletcher, Head Archivist. There's our three generals - Alex, Marm and Dem. Finally, Head Unspeakable and Vice-Chairperson of Head Command, Sherry. Then Chairperson of Head Command, Victoria.<p>

"Hey," I greet everyone with a smile, slipping into the space between Jess and Fletcher. "How's everyone?"

"Fine," they group-rumble, munching on their food quietly. There's a moment of silence, which I try to break instantly.

"Um, Fletcher?" I turn to the seventeen-year-old on my right. "I got this information from Nico di Angelo, could you help me check whether there's anything on a particular Sue with these traits in the Library?"

He sets down his fork and unfolds the paper that I hand him, on which I've written a few words - _lilac scent, cutting voice, silk bonds._ - then the number two. He nods slowly and refolds it, slipping it into his pocket as his eyes involuntarily stray towards Victoria. "I'm sure I can find something." She seems oblivious to his stare, though, and I just want to laugh. They take turns to stare at each other, and it's so obvious that they're in love with one another. Seriously. One day I am just going to force them into a broom closet and lock them in there for a night. Ha.

He's only just stared back down at his macaroni and cheese when Victoria speaks up, glancing towards him, before back to the table at large. "Sherry and I are calling an emergency meeting after lunch," she says. "Can everybody fit it into their schedules?"

"I have Caring with Kronos," says Jeremy, looking to me. "Verity, do you think you could . . . ?"

"I'll get you a replacement," I promise.

"Phew," he says, wiping pretend sweat from his forehead exaggeratedly, with a wink. "You have no idea how torturous Caring with Kronos is. I ask him if he's had any nightmares, he spends one hour nagging about how awesome he is. Shiz."

We all laugh at that before glancing at Jess, who's next to him. "Jess? What about you?" Sherry asks, ever-serious. One thing about Sherry is that she rarely, if not never, smiles. She doesn't even crack a grin at people's jokes, just a half-hearted, "Funny," before reverting back to her serious face.

"I have to bring new recruits into the Mines," she says, brow furrowed.

"That'll be hard to reschedule," notes Sherry. "You have a Vice-Head?"

"Yeah," Jess nods. "Jay."

Iris smirks. "Jay Parker? The one that you're _forever_ gushing about?"

Jess flushes furiously. "I do _not_! Shut up!"

The rest of us laugh again, (except Sherry as usual) because this Jessica-and-Jay thing has been around for quite some time. It's well known that she sort-of fancies him, and that he sort-of fancies her back because they're Miners together and they sleep in the same dorm and stuff. It's always been a part of our daily gossip, and we all love to tease her about it.

"And you, Verity?"

I stop laughing and return to attention as Sherry turns her gaze on me. Briefly I check my schedule and raise my head. "I'm actually due for an Experimenting session with Amy Cahill," I say, a tad disappointedly. I've actually been waiting for this opportunity for a long time, because Pads promised me that my turn would come. And now I'll have to miss it.

"I could get one of those NGF people to do it," says Pads, musing.

"I think Verity is more disappointed by the fact that she has to miss her session," Netishka points out tactfully. I actually wanted to say that myself, but did not for fear of sounding spoilt. My eyes seek out hers. _Thank you._ She smiles and rolls her eyes. _No problem._

Pads glances behind her to the Experimenter table. "I could try to rearrange the schedules a little. I think Cassidy - " she indicates a brown-haired girl with blue eyes, " - has Experimenting with Johanna Mason at six o' clock. Furthermore, I think Johanna has already been examined by a Carer to see whether she's fit for Experimenting, right?" She looks questioningly at me.

"We did it this morning, ahead of schedule." I nod.

"Well then, great. We can get Cassidy in Lab 11 right after lunch, I'll just go inform her." Pads pushes her chair back from the table and stalks towards the Experimenters' table, where we see her conversing with the brown-haired girl.

"Fletcher?" asks Victoria, drawing our attention back to the conversation we were having. He looks at her and her only as he answers.

"I've got Archiving, easy enough to deal with."

"Great," she says, smiling and looking down at the table, almost as if she's embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze. He lowers his eyes and picks at his food, abashed as well. I cough, and then Jeremy coughs, and then soon everyone is coughing and coughing. Victoria scowls at the lot of us, and Marm smothers her giggles to direct our conversation back on track.

"You, Alex?"

"Caring with Bella Swan," he says with a grin, sending a glance in my direction. I make a mental note as everyone starts coughing again. That girl is a Canon Mary-Sue, I tell you. She's somewhat of a joke - how're we supposed to protect her from her _own_ kind? Alex shakes his head. "Man, am I glad to get out of that one."

"Dude, at least the girl is hot," points out Jeremy.

Alex pretends to be wounded. "I'm not _that _superficial, Jem. What do you take me for?"

His words set off another round of giggles, and Sherry clears her throat as Pads rejoins us at the table. "All done," she informs us with a smile. Sherry nods, satisfied, and then gestures to our red-haired general. "Marm?"

"I've just got Lab Patrol duty."

"We can forfeit that," notes Sherry. "Dem?"

"Same as Marm," says Dem easily, propping her hands up behind her head. "Oh, and by the way, you people, I still need that report on the NGF recruits, okay?" And as we all open our mouths to protest, she simply holds up a hand and says, "I don't want to hear any excuses." Groans echo around the table. Victoria's obviously suppressing a smile as she gestures to Sherry.

"Unspeakable duty," she simply says, indicating that she can't exactly say what she's supposed to be doing in the middle of a crowded cafeteria. We all nod and move on. Victoria just has Patrol duty, Netishka's just going to be reviewing stuff, Pads is supposed to be in the Incinerator and Iris is scheduled for the Fireplace, doing what she does best. After we all make notes on how to correct one another schedules to make time, we start eating. But it's clear that no one's really focused on the food. The big question is - what is this meeting about? And that question occupies our minds and successfully prevents further conversation during the rest of lunch.

**iii.  
><strong>The top of Head Command is skillfully designed to emulate the entrance of I.N.S.A.N.E, a shed that's falling to pieces, while on the inside, it's really a modern lift lobby with a grav tube in the centre. Nobody ever comes here, under the assumption that it houses only brooms and gardening tools, the same impression that it gave Piper McCloud. Dr. Hellion, you have to admit, was a genius.

After rescheduling my counterparts' Caring sessions and finding replacements for them, I make my way across the main grounds and towards Head Command, where I very quickly type in my clearance code and slip into the shed without another word. Jess is in there, programming the grav tube.

"Oh, hey," she says, tapping in a stream of numbers. "Back already?"

"Yeah," I shrug. "How's Jay?" I ask, trying to hide my smile.

She rolls her eyes. "He's fine."

"Glad to hear it," I grin. She swats me and I sidestep. The grav tube is ready with a soft _ding_, and we both look towards it.

"You go first," Jess says, gesturing towards it. I shrug again and step forward, past the mouth of the tube, and I'm soon enveloped by glass, bobbing in the air. Jess gives me a sickly-sweet smile before slamming the red button.

The gravity drops to a hundred percent instantly, and then I'm hurtling towards the ground, with my eyes closed, before the air catches me and I'm once more drifting, bobbing up and down. My eyelids flutter open. I'm at Level Three.

Carefully, I lean towards the open mouth of the grav tube, and hover over. I'm reaching out for the metal bar at the entrance when Jess materializes soundlessly behind me.

"Hey," she says nonchalantly, as if we hadn't both just gone through a thirty-feet drop. I return the greeting, and then clamber onto safe, solid ground, feeling like I just ran a marathon. My legs wobble a tad.

"Come on, meeting's in the Bat Cave," says Jess, gesturing towards the door. It's another inside joke – we call it the Bat Cave because it's painted black and stuff, and it's pretty gloomy even though the tables, chairs, etcetera are brown. We usually have our meetings there, save that one time we held it in the Lavender Room – a most traumatizing experience. I feel like vomiting every time I smell lavender now.

"Hey," I greet everyone as Jess pushes open the heavy oak door. There's a general murmur of greeting, and I seat myself in my usual seat beside Fletcher and Jess. "Who's missing?" I ask, noting the empty spaces.

"Pads and Jeremy," says Victoria, sounding cross. "I thought I told them to hurry." She consults her watch and drums her long spindly fingers impatiently against the tabletop, sighing.

There's a palpable tension in the room, as if something bad has already happened. "What happened?" I whisper to Fletcher, who has his eyes trained on the paneled grainy wood of the table, but he only shrugs and doesn't even tear his eyes from the countertop. Impatient, I look across me to Iris, who shrugs too when I ask her the same question.

I lean back in my leather recliner, dissatisfied, as Pads bursts into the room, obviously out of breath. Victoria acknowledges her presence with a curt nod. "Now there's only Jeremy . . ."

"Somebody say my name?" Jeremy lounges into the room, obviously at ease, hands tucked into his pockets.

Sherry scowls. "Get into your seat, you moron."

He obeys with a wink at her. Sherry's eyes flash dangerously, then she stands up, several folders hugged to her chest, and strolls over to the visualizer, wiring it up to the projector as Victoria commences the meeting.

"You may wonder why we're all assembled here today," she begins, and is interrupted by Alex, who mutters, "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." With a pointed glare at him she continues talking. "It's because Sherry and I have discovered something most distressing."

Our eyes flash to the screen as Sherry places a photograph under the visualizer, one that makes us recoil in shock and horror. Victoria's voice is grim. "The Sues have found _Godspeed_."

"No," breathes Marm, and staring up at the horrific sight, I cannot find words to say. The once majestic ship is in shambles, the Feeder Level ablaze, and the Keeper Level half-collapsed onto the acres and acres of wheat fields. The Hospital is barely recognizable, now a smoking wreck, while Recorder Hall is nothing but a rubble heap. _Nico was right_, I think, when I can finally form a coherent thought. _There really _is_ no hope left._

All of us just stare up at the ruins of what was once one of our most secure strongholds, now reduced to pieces by the Sues' rampage. Jess, behind me, lets out a small moan as we take in the image, silently.

Even Victoria's voice sounds a little wobbly as she speaks. "We saved whoever we could. Many, however, were killed in the effort." Her throat is tight. "In total, two hundred and fifty-three lives were lost."

There is a sharp intake of breath, and even Jeremy is speechless for once, without any witticism to spout. Dem clears her throat, and we all look to her. "How – how many did you save?"

Our heads turn back to Victoria as she sucks in a breath, then exhales noisily. "Twenty-seven."

There is stony silence in the room. Out of two hundred and eighty, we only managed to save twenty-seven. _This proves how magnificent our cause is, doesn't it_? I bite back a retort and blink back my tears furiously. _This shows how much we can actually do, right? We're not _helping. _We're only causing more people to die, day by day._

"Out of all the Canons aboard the ship, we managed to save Doc, Harley, Amy, and Elder." Sherry says at last. "That's something worth being proud of – "

And then I can take it no longer. "_Being proud of_? You're saying that we're supposed to be proud of the fact that we can only save that few people? _There were two hundred and eighty people on board that ship, _Sherry. Two hundred and eighty. And out of that, we barely saved thirty." The tears prick the back of my eyes. "Wow, gee, I never knew that we should be proud of _being the cause for their deaths. _I never knew, Sherry."

Everybody's staring at me now, after my outburst, and even Sherry seems speechless for once. It's only then that I realize I'm standing, but my eyes are on our vice-chairperson. Her expression is tight, pained. "Verity – "

"And, we're supposed to be proud of saving that few Canons?" I demand. "Oh, because they're more valuable than other lives, is it?" The tears spill from my eyes now, and I wipe them harshly across the back of my hand. "Then what about the other Canons? Steela, Kaleigh, Eldest, Orion? What about them? What about all the monoethnics that work daily on the Feeder Level?"

"Verity, we saved who we could," Sherry says brusquely. "I don't understand why you're getting so worked up – "

"Oh, you don't, do you?" I let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm like this because you said we should be _proud_, and because the Canons that _I_ love, that _I_ care for, are _dying_! And we're the cause of it! We, Head Command, we're just sitting here and letting all of this happen! Do you think that's something to be _proud_ of?"

Nothing but silence greets my words. I laugh again, shakily. "I don't understand you," I say, shaking my head. "I don't understand all of you." And then, not wanting to remain in the same room as them anymore, I run from the meeting, tears streaming down my face.

**iv.**  
>I don't know how I manage to make it out of Head Command and onto the deserted Quidditch stands. But once I'm there, and I see that I'm alone, I begin to cry, loud, gasping, broken-hearted sobs wracking my frame as I weep. I've never felt so lost or so hopeless in my life - the upcoming War has really taken its toll on my health, and I really don't know what to do. I'm so lost in my crying that I don't even realize that someone else is here.<p>

"Hey," says Cassiel gently, slipping his arm around my shoulders as he seats himself on the bleachers beside me, already suited up for training. "I heard about your grand exit from Head Command."

I sniffle, pressing my face into his shoulder. "Who told you I was here?"

"Char," he says, indicating someone in the distance, and I raise my tear-stained face so that I can see the distant slim silhouette of Charisse, standing away at a distance as if she doesn't know what to do. "She came early and was rather frightened to see you in this state. So she called me."

I smile through my tears. "She did the right thing."

"Vem," he says, carefully, eyes probing my face. "Are you alright?"

"No, not really." I drag the sleeve of my sweater across my dripping nose. "I - I don't know what's wrong with me today, I just feel so lost and pathetic and it's like I've lost all hope - " at this point, Cassiel hands me a handkerchief and I blow my nose loudly against the silky cloth. " - and I don't know what to do," I finish lamely, biting back more tears.

Cassiel just pulls me tighter into his arms, eyes searching the heavens. "Is this something got to do with the emergency Head Meeting after lunch?" and when I nod, he looks at me with those melting green eyes. "Can you tell me what it was about?" Actually, this is against the rules, because what happens in Head Command stays in Head Command, but sometimes I just can't resist sharing my troubles with him. Anyway, it's not like the main populace of the CCC will never find out what happened anyway.

"It's _Godspeed,_" I sigh. "It was destroyed by Sues." I feel him stiffen, every muscle in his body tense, and hesitate before going on. "Out of two hundred and eighty people, we - we only saved twenty seven." I bury my face in the fabric of his Quidditch robes before the onslaught of tears takes over. It's a while before he recovers from the shock and puts his arms around me again.

"Wow," he says softly, rocking me back and forth like a baby. "No wonder you were upset."

"That's not all," I tell him. "Sherry said that we should be _proud_ that we managed to save twenty seven - "

"She said that? Really?" but there's no anger in his voice, only casual wonderment. I pull back from his embrace and look at him accusingly. "You think I overreacted, don't you?"

Cassiel shrugs, trying to hide his smile. "Well, yeah, kinda. I understand why you were angry, but I think it's a little too much to storm out of Head Command just because of a casual comment like that. She was trying to lift spirits, Vem. She was trying to tell everyone - hey, all's not lost, we still managed to save twenty seven. She didn't _mean _anything bad, Verity."

Now that I think about it, I probably did overreact. "Yeah, maybe," I say with a sigh, leaning back into his arms. "I should apologize to her. But really, I think I was just looking for an excuse to cry - you know, to let out all the pent-up frustration that I've been hoarding these few days."

He squeezes me. "Don't get too stressed out over this War, Vem. You're only one of many. The entire fate of FF•net doesn't rest on you and you alone, you know," he says lightly, tapping my nose. I swat his arm away, but I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "Yeah, you're right," I relent. "Maybe I have been stressing too much about the War."

"And you know what's the best solution to this?" Cassiel asks, standing up with a twinkle in his eye. "A fly around the compound."

"No." My eyes grow wide. "No, Cassiel, no, no, _no_ - " but he's already snatched up the broom from beside him, mounted it, seized me by the waist and taken off. I squeal as we pelt into the sky but soon sag back against him, and he's right - the wind rushing through my hair, the sensation of flying, his arms around my waist - it all feels incredible, and maybe this is really what I needed to relax.

**v.**  
>My cheeks color as I even near the Head table during dinner, my tray loaded with more food than usual (I eat when I'm nervous) - namely three thin slices of meat loaf and my usual apple parfait - and apprehensively, I glance back towards the Carer table. Everyone there gives me a thumbs up for encouragement, but my eyes automatically seek out Cassiel. He gives me a smile that says <em>you can do it<em>, then he, too, flashes me a thumbs-up. I smother my nerves and head up to the table.

Everyone's eyes flicker to me immediately, and the conversation slows to a sluggish pace before coming to a stop altogether. Everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to make my move. "I - I - " I stammer. "I'm sorry," I blurt. "I don't know what came over me - I just wasn't in my right mind, I suppose. Seeing the picture just set me off. I - I'm sorry!" I incline my head and wait for their response.

_What're they doing? Have they already kicked me off Head Command? Are they pretending I don't exist? What?_

It's a full one minute before anyone speaks, but it seems like an eternity to me. "It's fine, Verity," says Sherry, trying for a rare smile. "We - we've all been feeling the strain, the pressure nowadays. I suppose you're just a tad more fragile than the rest of us."

"Don't worry about it," chimes in Netishka. "I felt like crying, too."

"Yeah," Iris agrees. Soon everyone is nodding and agreeing and I feel so _relieved_ but Victoria hasn't said anything, and I don't quite dare meet her gaze. She smiles too, though a bit tightly. "We've all got a little more under our belts, being from Head Command," she says quietly, and everyone falls silent. "It's always hard being at the helm of things. People look to you when there's trouble, and they expect you to deal with it because you're the head." She sighs but goes on. "I know how you feel, Verity, we _all_ do. Maybe you and I, more than others. But even - even when things are at their darkest - " her eyes glaze over, and I know she's thinking about the Dark Days, "you - you just have to find light in the darkness." She casts her eyes downwards. "And sometimes it may seem impossible, but _if_ - if you can do that, you can survive anything." Her brown eyes meet mine, steely and determined. I nod.

"Well, anyway, welcome back," Marm jokes. "We missed you."

Dem rolls her eyes. "Marm, it's been two hours."

"That long?" Marm opens her eyes theatrically and we all laugh. Feeling all warm and fuzzy inside I slip back into my normal spot. Jess' hand finds mine under the table, and she gives me an encouraging squeeze. Even Fletcher offers me a smile before returning to his normal examination of the tabletop. They're all smiling at me - including Iris, Alex, Pads, Jeremy - and then, in that moment, I decide that, even though we may be going through dark times, I'll always have my friends to support me through it. And that's a fact.

**vi.**  
>"Argh! Coming through, coming through!" I streak like a bullet through the corridor, startling several people who are still in their post-sleep haze and causing them to drop things. "Sorry!" I call over my shoulder as I stagger to a stop before the cafeteria, then change directions and race down the lunch line, grabbing a bowl of fruit salad and a double expresso before converging upon the Head table. At this time of day, it's still partially empty, before everyone is awake.<p>

"Whoah, Verity," Pads says wryly as I scoff down my fruit salad, "take it slow."

I shake my head with wide eyes as I chew ferociously, and Alex only laughs. "Isn't it obvious?" he says, chuckling under his breath. "She's got Quidditch Support directly after this." I nod at him as I take large gulps of the scalding coffee, burning my tongue.

"Yeah. That."

"Out of my way!" Jeremy's voice rings out as he crashes to a stop at our table too, barely seating himself before cramming his sandwich into his mouth and taking a gigantic bite. Victoria merely looks bemused as she observes the two of us.

"Wow, look at both of you," she says. "Anyone'd think that your lives depended on this Quidditch match."

I pull my mouth away from the rim of my coffee cup, and Jeremy swallows his half-chewed mouthful of wholemeal bread. "It does," we say in unison, then turn to scowl at one another before returning to our food. Iris starts laughing so hard she snorts up her orange juice and winds up coughing to clear her windpipe. Pads rolls her eyes.

"Quidditch-obsessed freaks."

"Hey! I'm the captain!" Jeremy shoots at her. "I _have_ to be at the pitch in five minutes! Whereas this thing - " he points in my general direction and I almost choke on my coffee, " - is only going for kicks! Grow up, Pads."

"I'm going to support my department!" I protest. "As Head, I have special clearance to watch the whole match." I upturn my nose at him before shoving a chunk of apple into my mouth and crushing it against my tongue so that the juice trickles out. "And," I add, a tad haughtily, "we're going to kick your arses."

"Oh yeah? Get ready to have _your_ asses creamed by us, moron!" he retorts, shaking his fist at me and slurping noisily at his milk. I toss my hair to infuriate him further, and he starts boiling.

"Maybe we should get rid of this Quidditch thing," Victoria comments dryly, watching us. "Seeing as it only results in violence and more violence - "

"_NO_!" we both yell at her, then glare at each other before returning to our meals. The other people at the table merely chuckle at our competitiveness, obstinacy and obsession. After about three more minutes of ferocious chomping, we both glance at our watches, let out a stream of obscenities, then take to our heels, leaving destruction in our wake and almost knocking Sherry down as we scramble out the door. Head Command's laughter echoes behind me as I run, and both Jeremy and I look at each other and grin.

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><p><strong>AN** - quidditch match next chapter! :3 and yeah I know I promised more action but I just couldn't sorry D: I think _Godspeed_ being destroyed is enough excitement, so we're moving on to the lighter, more fluffy side of life at the CCC! Isn't that just fabulous? :D

Review :D /and thanks to everyone who re-submitted characters to clarify! You guys rock! ~ and once more, anyone interested in betaing my RemusXOC [ multi chap ], please PM me!(:

thanks much. xx


	4. The Romancer

**A/N -** Hello! Hope y'all liked that last chapter(: I've decided [ and extremely admirably, too ;) ] to stop weighing things by reviews so as long as I get this story up and I complete it, I'll be proud of it and myself, instead of the number of reviews. What do you think of _that_? :D thanks for the reviews anyway ^^ shoutouts to _The Queen of Valencia Torgue, miyame-chan, Faye Tash, PurpleRose328, kenstar12, _and _Tea•And•__Ghosts_ for the reviews ever since I posted the rewrite ~

This is a rewrite of a chapter I posted previously, because I wasn't very satisfied with how the last one turned out — and this is also partly to answer a query that I received a few weeks back regarding romance. Yes, there will be a _slight _form of romance between Verity and Cassiel, an even slighter one between Victoria and Fletcher, though I'm more excited to work on Jessica and Jay / Allison and Jeremy. The latter is going to be my OTP for this story, yes. (:

My chapters are all going to have themes, from now onwards – the previous two were scene-setters, and the prologue doesn't count. And the theme of this chapter is romance – yay, right? (: hahaha lol but do review, kays? :D since I'm a hypocrite and I do enjoy receiving reviews. n-n

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><p>▒ What The Door Conceals ▒<br>by **the games have begun**

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><p>Chapter Three - <em>The Romancer<em>

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><p><strong>i.<strong>  
>"Hey, Vem," my Incinerator friend Allison Tanner greets me cheerfully as I seat myself beside her in the stands. I wave back. "Hey. How're you?"<p>

"Fine," she shrugs nonchalantly. Alli is one of my closer friends who isn't a Carer or from Head Command, because we were trainees together, and partnered each other during the probation period, which is one of the more vital parts of recruiting. Then she glances past me and groans. "Aw, man, look who we got for commentator."

Our commentator for this match is Rachelle Ryans, a girl who's got the enthusiasm of Deena Geysers, and also her ability to tell jokes. She's a pretty good commentator, but sometimes she pays a _little_ too much attention to herself instead of the main point here. Which is the match. She's telling one of her awful jokes when the Incinerators trudge onto the muddy pitch, Jeremy at the head of them. ". . . And I said, _because they live on Uranus_! Hahaha!" She doubles over in raucous laughter, stomping her feet. Everyone just regards her with raised eyebrows, and the nicer ones laugh half-heartedly. Someone who's near to her prods her and gestures at the team waiting angrily below.

"Oh!" She scrambles to the edge of the stands and peers down, before speaking into the purple megaphone. "And - yeah, that's the Incinerators down there! Boy, don't they look excited!"

I peer down at the team. Nope, they just look angry, but Rachelle can delude herself all she wants.

"Well, there's Jeremy down there, and, uh . . . Tricia . . . yeah, that's Tricia, Anna, Dan, James, Zinnia and Ralph! Say hi, everyone! _Hi!_" Rachelle waves enthusiastically, not even noticing that nobody's waving with her. "And . . . yeah . . . okay, there's the Carers! Alyss, Charisse, Danielle, Marcus, Faye, Carlos . . . aaand Cassiel." Her voice turns dreamy at the last name and I grimace. Alli notices my expression and nudges me, a smile on her lips.

"Jealous?"

"You wish," I retort, flushing embarrassedly. She makes a cooing noise before turning back to the match, and I kick her shin. She clucks at me, wincing, and whacks me over the head as the players take to the air. Involuntarily my eyes stray to Cassiel as he zips one round of the pitch with the other players for warm-ups, but I catch myself just in time, batting one silvery-blonde curl away from my eye. _Gods I need to stop staring at him involuntarily._

"And _they're off_!" Rachelle reports excitedly. "The Quaffle is thrown into the air by General Alex Ritcher . . . and the game _begins! _First there's Anna with the Quaffle - _ouch_, that must have hurt - first Bludger of the game, folks, hit at her by Carlos - it smashed into the back of her head, and she dropped the Quaffle - where's it now? Oh _look_ there, nice save by Alyss Lane there, and she's doing a lap towards Incinerator goal - _watch out, Alyss, James and Dan are behind you_- and she shoots - and she SCORES! Ten-zero to the Carers!"

I cheer politely as Alli just rolls her eyes. Rachelle continues, still sounding a tad too bright. "And there's Jeremy - Tricia - Anna - Tricia - Anna - Jeremy -_wow_, nice handiwork there by the Incinerator Chasers - and then - look, Charisse snatches the Quaffle from the air as Jeremy throws it to Tricia - she's bringing it up front - wait, what is this? She's not scoring? Ah, I see now, Beater James Harold is there to block her - so she's thrown it to Cassiel, and Cassiel - go for it, Cassiel!"

My eyes trail Cassiel as he swoops in and out of the mass of people, dodging snatching arms and Bludgers, and then he's at the goal - he shoots - and he_SCORES_! Twenty-zero to the Carers!" I watch with a half-smile as he does a quick victory lap, whirling around the pitch with his cocky smile on his face. But in no time at all, it's thirty-twenty to the Incinerators, and even though Cassiel, Alyss and Charisse are working furiously, they just can't seem to score past the Incinerators' keeper, Ralph. He seems to materialise magically every time the Quaffle even comes near. Even I have to admit grudgingly that the Incinerators have put together a pretty strong team this year.

"YES!" Alli jumps, pumping her fists in the air as Jeremy brings the Quaffle soaring through the middle hoop, as Marcus dives to save it but misses it by his fingertips. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, "GO JEREMY!" He turns, searching for the source of his name amongst the screams, and she ducks back into her seat, embarrassed.

I think back to how she made fun of me and Cassiel and decide to tease her a little. "Aw," I coo, clasping my hands together dramatically, "Alli's in _love._"

"Am not!" she protests defensively.

I flutter my eyelashes at her. "_Su-ure._" When she aims a slap at my head, I dodge to aside and continue in my simpering voice, "Well, sweetie-pie, don't you want to figure out of tall, dark, handsome Jeremy returns your feelings?" I purse my lips and her eyes grow wide.

"You wouldn't dare."

I continue to bat my eyelashes. "Just sit back and watch me."

"Okay, okay!" Alli says loudly, tugging me back into my seat as I attempt to stand and call out to Jeremy. "_Maybe_ I fancy him. MAYBE!" she chastises as I move to leap out of my seat again, eyes shining in glee and excitement. "But that's just a maybe. And who knows if he feels the same way. I feel pathetic, chasing after him when he probably doesn't even know I exist." She sighs and rests her head on her elbows.

_D'aww_, _they're perfect for each other._ "I could put in a good word for you," I offer with a modest shrug. Her eyes light up.

"You'd do that for _me_?"

"Sure," I wave a hand dismissively, "no biggie. And if he doesn't fancy you, I'll _make_ him fancy you."

Alli's eyes flash. "Now don't you get, let's say, Mrs. Sharpe to work her emotions curse on him. You'd do nothing but ruin everything. I want him to like me for _who I am_, not purely because some curse worker _made_ him to." I roll my eyes and mock-salute her, putting on my most sardonic smile. "Seriously, Alli, who do you take me for? I'm not _that _much of an idiot, okay?"

"Good," she replies. "Thank you."

"Whatever." I look back to the game, where Cassiel has just managed to once more gain possession of the Quaffle. He speeds towards the goalposts but is blocked by Jeremy, who greets him politely before snatching the Quaffle and speeding off. Alli cheers, and I tut fake-disapprovingly. "Young people in love, these days," I sigh dramatically, and she snaps back with, "You're one to talk."

With a half-annoyed, half-bemused expression I plant my hands on my hips and open my mouth to speak as Rachelle begins shrieking. "Oh, OH! Danielle's seen it – she's seen the Snitch!"

"_Where_?" Alli and I both demand, argument forgotten, getting to our feet. The crowd is in an uproar as Danielle streaks across the pitch, eyes fixated on something. The crowd's rumble grows to a crescendo and swells into chaos as Zinnia follows her lead, slicing through the air. But then I spot the gold Snitch on the other end of the pitch, and my eyes widen.

"GO ZINNIA!" Alli squeals, but I grab her shoulders and force her to look at where the tiny fluttering ball _really_ is. Her eyes widen as she realizes what's going on. We exchange glances and say in unison, "Wronski Feint."

Danielle is swooping leisurely, and when she looks back, as if to check on Zinnia's position, Alli and I both know that she's really just looking at where the real Snitch is. "Looks like this game is going to the Carers," says Alli grudgingly, extending a hand. "Good game." I beam and shake her hand.

"You too."

Screams echo from all over the stands; Danielle's gone into a startling, sudden dive towards the ground, and Zinnia mimicks her actions. _Hurry, hurry!_ I urge her silently in my head. As if spurred on by my actions, she suddenly pulls out of the dive and the crowd gasps as Zinnia crashes into the pitch, seconds later Danielle's circling the pitch triumphantly, the feebly stirring ball clenched in her fist.

"YES!" I shout, thrusting my fists in the air in victory. "YES!" The entire team surrounds Danielle and fall in a sprawling circle to the earth. Laughing in sheer delight, I make my way from the stands, skidding down flights of steps until I'm on the muddy pitch, metres away from the giddy champions. Cassiel sees me coming and breaks away from the group, tackling me in a hug before I can say or do anything. I hug him back, laughing dizzily in pure bliss, before he pulls back.

"Hey," he breathes, eyes shining.

I grin back at him. "Hey yourself. Great job out there, by the way."

"Thanks," he says, brushing damp curls from his eyes and breathing heavily in spite of himself. "It was . . . tiring. And I'm hungry. I'll go hit the showers now . . . see you at lunch?"

I smile and nod, and can't help but feel that at least _something_ is going right these days.

**ii.**  
>I fork up a piece of apple that bobs aimlessly around in my apple parfait. "Well, I guess I could take a look at Wiress later . . . you say she's catatonic?" Pads nods, her eyes serious, her mouth a grim line.<p>

"She's in terrible condition now," she reports, twirling strands of spaghetti around her fork. "Won't speak to anyone. Dem thinks she's going mad."

"Wouldn't be much of a surprise now, would it?" I remark dryly, and lift the tall cocktail glass to my lips. "Everybody's going mad now." We regard each other and nod before turning back to our food.

"Oh look, there's Jeremy," Pads says wryly, as the aforementioned stomps up to our table grumpily, mussed blonde hair wet and dripping, his expression stony. "And how are we this fine day, Quidditch captain?"

"Shut up," Jeremy growls, before dumping his duffel bag on the bench and stalking off to wait in line for food. Pads watches him with bemused eyes as he sulks while waiting, and laughs. "He's such a kid." I watch him as he tells the lunch lady his order grumpily before sliding his tray loaded with food down the metal counter and over to the dessert corner.

"Hey, he just lost a Quidditch match, go easy on him," I smirk, accidentally dropping my fork and chunk of apple to the floor. "Whoops!" The garbage girl is over in a flash, picking it up between gloved fingers and tossing it into a black garbage bag. "Thanks," I tell her sincerely, but she only looks at me warily through a curtain of dark hair, before she mutters, "you're welcome," and scurries away.

"How on earth did we pick the garbage girl?" I ask Pads curiously as I watch the girl scramble away. Pads shrugs, shoving a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth.

"Probably one of those who weren't really good at anything."

I nod, more to myself than to her, as I ponder. Maybe I should befriend this garbage girl. Find out what her real name is, and stop calling her "garbage girl". She seemed almost afraid of me when she picked up the food I dropped. Why? Why was she afraid? Had she some previous bad experience with me? Fretting, I fussed over this as Jeremy plonked himself in his usual seat, stabbing his burger furiously and thrusting the whole chunk into his mouth.

"Hey, what did the burger ever do to you?" I joke lamely, but he just glowers at me, mutters something under his breath - is it just me, or did I hear _bloody Carers_? - before looking back down at his food.

"Well, somebody certainly got off the wrong side of bed today," remarks Jess as she slips onto the bench beside me, bumping my red plastic tray with hers. "Hey," she greets me and Pads, before turning her direction back to Jeremy. "What's up, Marseille?" And when he doesn't respond, she presses on, "why, cat got your tongue or something?"

"Shove off, Hamilton," he snaps back, except that instead of 'shove' he used something far ruder. Something that begins with 'f' and rhymes with 'duck'. I press my lips together, suppressing a smile as Jess looks positively scandalized.

"Someone's in a mood," she rolls her eyes before looking back to her meatloaf and offering some to me. "Want some, Vem?"

"Nah, I'm cutting back," I tuck my arms behind my head and grin at her. She rolls her eyes again. "You barely eat, Verity. I think you're anorexic."

I shrug. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. Maybe you're in love with Jay Parker."

"Not _that _again," Jess groans. Then her smile turns poisonous and she starts batting her eyelashes at me. I regard her a tad cautiously as she chirps, ever-so-cheerfully, "what about _your_ love life, dearest Miss Walker?" I should have expected that. _I should have expected that._ I shrug again, leaving back against the back of my chair. "Well, Jessie-dear, you of all people should know that my love life is practically _nonexistent_," I snap at her. "So quit it."

She continues batting her eyelashes. "What about a certain Cassiel James?"

I swallow. "There's nothing between us."

Jess smirks. "Nothing, you say?" she stands up and cups her hands around her mouth, shouting, "HELLO EVERYONE!" Panicked now, I try and tug her back into her seat with a few hissed _stop it_s, but she's on a roll and now everyone is looking at her. I slouch even lower in my seat. _This is _not_ going to end well. I'm just happy that Cassiel isn't here_ – and speak of the devil, who should wander into the cafeteria looking ridiculously good in a t-shirt and bermudas? You got it.

"SO!" Jess says, triumphantly. "WHO HERE KNOWS OUR DARLING VERITY WALKER?"

There's a general rolling of eyes – I'm Head Carer, who wouldn't know me? – but some still grudgingly put up their hands. Jess swivels around to throw me a grin before turning back to the crowd. "AND WHO KNOWS WHO CASSIEL JAMES IS?" Again, some general irritation, but again, some people comply, raising their hands to indicate that they _do_ know Cassiel. "AND WHO KNOWS ABOUT VERITY _AND_ CASSIEL?"

Laughter breaks out at this – everyone knows where this is going now – and most of the people in the cafeteria thrust their hands into the air. I slide so far down in my seat I'm practically off it, and peer up at Cassiel's reaction, on the other side of the room. He looks mainly embarrassed and slightly confused – he heard that last sentence, alright – and now he's searching the room, presumably for me. I crawl back under the table again.

"WHO HERE THINKS THAT THERE'S _SOMETHING_ MORE THAN FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN THEM?"

I don't even dare look at the reaction now, just keep huddled under the table until Jess lets out a laugh and says, "thank you," before sitting back down. The cafeteria erupts in murmuring, and Jess pokes her head beneath the table. "He's not looking, you can come out now." I scowl fiercely at her, before pasting a sheepish expression across my face and slowly surfacing, keeping my eyes fixed on my apple parfait.

"_Jessica Hamilton, I _swear,_ I _will_ kill you._" I hiss, my eyes not wavering from my food as I stab a chunk of apple savagely, almost as if it were her. She gives me a cheeky grin and shrugs.

"All part of my charm, darling, all part of my charm."

A sniggering from the other end of the table distracts me, and I look up to see Jeremy, previously stony, moody Jeremy, now back to his usual antagonistic self, grinning away at my embarrassment and displeasure. I slap him on the arm, and he sticks out his tongue at me. I suddenly recall Alli and her wistful expression as she talked about Jeremy, and abruptly sober, remembering my promise to her.

"Let's talk about _you_, Marseille," I say firmly. He shrugs, stuffing more meat loaf into his mouth.

"I don't have a girlfriend, or even have my eye on anyone, seriously. What is there to talk? Go ahead, I'm not afraid," he says with a wry grin at me. I try to focus, thinking of ways to bring the topic up discreetly. "Okay, I'm going to start naming random girls in the CCC, or at the very least in _your _department, and you tell me what you think of them."

A slightly suspicious look crosses his eyes, but he merely shrugs again. "Okay, whatever makes you happy."

"Um." I blink hard, trying to think of a name that isn't Alli's. "Jaz?"

Jeremy tilts his head, considering. "She's too beautiful, if that makes sense."

" . . . Tanya?"

"You mean the Archivist?" when I nod, he only says, "I don't know her much, it's hard to judge."

"Allison."

"Alli?" he thinks about it for a while. "She's alright, I guess."

"Alright?" I furrow my brow. Not the response I was looking for, now. "What do you mean, alright?"

"I don't know her either, she's in my department but I hardly see her." Jeremy's eyes narrow. "Why are you so interested, anyway?" My eyes grow wide and I protest, "who said I was interested? I was merely curious. You were just . . . vague. I was um, just wondering what you meant."

"Uh huh," he says, not fully convinced, but thankfully at that moment Pads butts in. "What are you even talking about?"

"Nothing!" we both say hurriedly at the same time, and raising her eyebrows cynically at us she turns away. The moment her back is turned, we both make faces at the other and turn back to our food as the other members of Head Command begin trickling in for lunch. Alex, followed by Netishka, deposit their files and stuff on our table before wandering off to get their food.

"Oh right, Vem, I almost forgot – you're due for your Experimenting session with Amy Cahill after lunch," Pads says, slicing into her meat loaf. My eyes widen almost comically, and then my jaw drops, and suddenly I'm at her side and squeezing her so tightly she's practically gasping for breath.

"Thank you _so _much!" I enthuse, while she tries to extricate herself from my grasp.

"Eh – um, no worries. It was – uh – due to happen, anyway."

"What's going on?" inquires Iris with a dry smile as she slides into her usual seat armed with a red plastic tray; loaded with enough meat loaf to make me cringe. Not that she's a gigantic eater, I'm just a really small one, because the sight of food in excess scares me, and I've always been conscious about my weight.

Suddenly someone taps me on the shoulder, and I turn around to stare up into the blue-green eyes of Cassiel James. My heart leaps into my throat; my breath hitches. Jess giggles, and I nudge her inconspicuously so that she'll shut up. "Hey," he says softly, and I can feel almost every pair of eyes in the cafeteria flash to me. _Shit. _"Can I talk to you for a while?"

**iii.**  
>"Okay," I say, holding up a hand before he can even say a word. We're standing outside the cafeteria, just beside a blurred glass panel that shields us from the prying eyes in the cafeteria.<p>

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

"Uhm, Jess blah blah announcement blah idiot blah." I wave my hand dismissively before his face, narrowly missing him. "Look, I'm not responsible in the least for that, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't press charges." I hate the way my heart starts to flutter as he stares at me unflinchingly with those intense blue eyes of his, causing me to melt inside and swoon.

"Or, uh, were you going to talk to me about Caring? Because, in that case, you can totally ignore what I just said. Just me talking shit and being me, you know," I say, looking anywhere but at him. "And to answer your possible queries, no, you do _not_ have to Care for Myles and Beckett Fowl this afternoon –"

"Verity."

"Yeah?" I shift uncomfortably under his gaze and finally have the courage to look up. His eyes seem to be laughing.

"Can I talk?"

"Oh, uh, sure." I flush embarrassedly; I always feel like an idiot around him. _My life sucks._ "Uh, go ahead. You know, take the stage. It's all yours!" I give a shaky laugh, and he just watches me bemusedly. I gesture once more for him to start talking. "You _do_ know what 'take the stage' means, right? It means you have my attention and that you can start –"

"Great," he cuts me off once more. "_Now_ can I talk?"

"Yeah." I make a face and he laughs out loud. "Oh, okay, right. I just wanted to talk to you about – uh – this is going to sound really weird when I say this," he gives a nervous laugh. "But – I – I kind of met this girl today."

My heart feels like it's turned to stone and plummeted into the depths of my stomach. "Go on."

"And . . . she's really weird. Not in a bad way, either, but just really weird." He scratches the back of his head. "I – I really have no idea how to describe it. She . . . _behaves _weirdly. She doesn't seem _bad_, but so weird she takes weird to new heights. Yeah. And the thing is . . . the reason why I'm telling you this, is because . . . oh, man . . . "

My leaden heart seems to rise, just a tad. "And?"

"She kissed me."

**iv.**  
>"Verity, you need to see this."<p>

"I don't want to move," I moan in response, shifting my weight on my bed and turning around, hugging my pillow even tighter. "Leave me alone, Jessie."

"Look, I know you're upset about the whole Cassiel thing, but Vem, looking at it reasonably, you're always saying that you don't have feelings for him, and that you're just friends," Jess says in an attempt to make me feel better, hovering awkwardly in the doorway to my room, the light streaming through it being the only thing illuminating my otherwise dark room. She squints at my shape in the dark. "And – and the fact that he told you shows that he _cares_ –"

"But that's just it, Jess!" I shoot back in frustration, sitting bolt upright and staring her down. "I _don't_ _want_ him to care about me. I _don't want_ to fall in love. I _don't want_ this to happen to me, not now."

Jess pauses. "What do you mean?" she asks softly.

"I _mean_," I answer, stalking over to the light switch and flicking it on, "that the War is coming, and we can't afford this right now."

Jess bites her lip. "Verity, I –"

"Don't ty to make me feel better," I tell her, shutting my eyes and pressing my fingers to my temples. "Thanks, but I'm really stressed right now and I can't even think straight –" and in that moment, against my better judgement, I start to cry.

She shuffles over awkwardly and puts her arm around me, digging her chin into my shoulder. I lean into her embrace, sobbing, and she pats my back and shushes me. I continue to weep, broken sobs issuing from low in my chest. "Verity . . . there's a girl in the cafeteria right now," Jess says softly. I cringe, but Jess still goes on. "I think she's the one who kissed Cassiel. She calls herself . . . Actually, I think you should meet her yourself."

"I can't," I tell her.

"No," she responds. "It's not a matter of that. You're the Head Carer – you might as well be the only expert on the way minds work in the CCC. We _need_ you to take a look at her. See it as a . . . a . . . _study._"

I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand. "Is she really that bad?"

**v.**  
>"Wow, she's bad."<p>

My eyes are fixed on the girl in the middle of the circle that has formed in the cafeteria; she's otherwise oblivious to the attention, twirling blissfully in circles. Her hair is bound in two red braids that swing around her, accompanied by a knit pouch that's slung across her shoulders. She's wearing a beanie, and her clothes seem to be an assortment of knitted, darned and crocheted patchwork, which is so chaotic that even Apophis would have been baffled.

"Told you," says Jess, sighing. We head over to the huddle of Head Command members at one side of the crowd, Victoria's speaking to them. We join the group, squeezing into the circle. "What's going on?"

"That girl," says Alex in a low voice, "is barking mad."

"She is," agrees Jeremy, and they share a dark glance.

Marm, on the other hand, simply looks worried. "I still think she might be a Mary-Sue. Wouldn't this mean that they've breached our final row of defenses?"

"I kind of doubt it," says Pads, observing the girl with a glint in her eye, which means that she's analyzing her through and through. "She doesn't appear to be a Sue. More . . . come to think of it, she actually reminds me of a Canon. Look at her hair. Where have we seen that color of red before?"

Something starts to nag at the back of my mind. "Well, I'm pretty sure I've seen it somewhere before."

"Exactly," says Pads, snapping her fingers, before going on. "And look at her eyes. Don't you recognize them? Where have we seen them before, that precise shade and size?"

Dem's eyes widen in realization. "You're not saying . . . she's a _Canon_?"

"Doubt it," says Netishka, shaking her head. "That's not possible. Not at all. Unless she's from some shady fandom that no one's heard of before – which, if you look at it logically and reasonably, is pretty unlikely –"

"But Pads definitely has a point," says Sherry, ever-serious as usual, her eyes solemn and her lips pressed into a hard, grim line. "Everybody, think about it. This girl looks familiar, and we have to find out why." The nagging at the back of my mind persists, and it pulls and tugs at my memory, slowly shaping it –

"I've got it," says Iris, eyes as round as dinner plates. She bounces slightly on the balls of her feet. "I know who that girl is. So _that's_ why she's so familiar. It's Lily Evans."

"_No way!_" but we all turn to stare at the girl, still twirling happily, the centre of attention. That face . . . I know that face. Those eyes . . . that hair . . . "Iris is right," Jess says with a kind of haunted horror. "That _is_ Lily Evans. But – then she must be a Sue. Or at the very least an OOC. There's no way that that's _Canon_ Canon Lily Evans, she doesn't behave like her in the least –"

"She's a Dynamic Character." Fletcher, who's been silent all this while in his typical fashion, suddenly speaks up, and we're all taken aback. Victoria's eyes scan his face. "You're sure? That's highly possible . . . " to which Fletcher returns, "of course I'm sure. She shows all the signs of it."

"Am I the only one who has no idea what they're talking about?" Jeremy demands of no one in particular. Victoria turns to face him. "Dynamic Characters are characters that evolve and change over the course of a story. More than often, they end up as Mary Sues, and therefore are really rare to come across. That's why we must –"

"Wait," I say, putting up a hand. Victoria nods at me, and I go on. "I've a question, before we go interrogate her. Jess mentioned . . . she calls herself something?"

"Oh," says Victoria, her eyebrows raised. "She calls herself the Romancer."

* * *

><p><strong>AN – T**his didn't really turn out the way I wanted D: but who cares, bahaha. This is for drew (studies in pink) my lovely cybersister who reads over all my shit and concrits it c: Tea•And•Ghosts, I'm sorry I couldn't use your OC D: she'll turn up soon, promise, but in the meantime would you mind giving me a bit more information about her? ^^; thanks.

lol kay review anyways :D


	5. The War

**A/N** — so this is the next chapter (: sorry for how late it is, it's been more than five months! /cries :P I've no idea why the last one turned out the way it did, but I really wanted to use the chapter title _the romancer_ for this one too! ahh cries; and I especially didn't want to do the part one part two thing, like I did last time for _red alert._ So what to do?

I hope you like this chapter, anyway! This is dedicated to Chrissie DeKourson, Chrissie is a good friend of mine and I love her a lot :3 this also goes out to Vintages, another friend of mine :D

Thanks for reading, and do review!

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><p>What The Door Conceals<br>by **drizzling**

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><p>Chapter Four – <em>The War<em>

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><p><strong>i.<strong>  
>I take careful, measured steps towards the girl, who is still twirling in joyful circles in the middle of the cafeteria, amidst the many curious eyes and confused stares. Tilting my head, i come to a stop in front of her. "Um, hi there."<p>

She swirls to a graceful stop, a bright smile on her face, before bounding forwards and pumping my hand up and down enthusiastically. "Hey there! I'm Lilly! Lilly Watson!" she chirps cheerfully. "And I'm your new Romancer!"

"Uh, I'm not sure if we need a Romancer, whatever that is, here at the CCC," I say doubtfully. "Erm . . . how did you get here?"

"Through the front door, like anyone else!" Lilly continues, just as cheerily. "I met your receptionist! She was very nice!"

"You mean Jolyn?" somehow, when I think of Jolyn, 'very nice' isn't exactly the description that I think of, but I decide to keep that scintillating piece of information to myself. "Um . . . so she pointed you towards the cafeteria?"

"Nope, she told me to wait in the corridor while she fetched a Chansey. Whatever a Chansey is," shrugs off Lilly. "To be honest, she was a bit weird, but anyway I just followed the corridor to a room, where I crawled through a vent and emerged there!" she points at a graille that hangs loosely from the ceiling, directly above the Head table. I swallow.

"That's . . . lovely. Now, would you mind telling me why you call yourself —"

"Oh! I almost forgot something! When I was in the corridor, this nice boy came walking to me. He said he was looking for the receptionist, and I thought he was _really_ cute." Lilly nods to emphasise on the word 'really'. My thoughts flash instinctively to Cassiel, and my fears are confirmed. "So I kissed him! He was good," she sighs happily. Then she looks at me and tilts her head to a side. "Have you kissed him? You should, you know."

I grit my teeth and force myself to calm down. "Uh, maybe later. So, Lilly, why do you call yourself a Romancer?"

"Because I create love!" she squeals, clasping her hands together. "Isn't that just wonderful? Love is just so sweet, don't you agree? Fanfiction is all about love! FF•Net would be no where if not for the love that _I_ created," Lilly declares smugly.

I try for a smile, but it comes out as a grimace. "That's great," I say half-heartedly, closing my eyes and pressing a finger to my temple. My eyelids flutter open and I flash her a forced grin. "Excuse me a second."

**ii.**  
>"It's worse than we thought," I tell my fellow Heads in a low voice as we huddle together at a corner of the cafeteria. "Whoever talked to her just now will know what I meant. Who did, anyway?" Alex raises his hand, shaking his head slowly, and I throw him a sympathetic glance. "She claims to be able to . . . create love, and she says that she's been creating love all around FF•Net. We'll need to get a little background info on her before we can come to any conclusions. Fletcher?"<p>

"I'm on it," he says seriously with a nod to me. "I'll go with you," Victoria says almost immediately, and all of us stifle our grins just in time.

"Great, so Vic and Fletch, you go check it up." I wave them away and they head off in the direction of the Library, where we keep our archives of everything that ever existed, currently exists and ever will exist. I turn back to the others. "What do you think, Pads?" Sherry asks.

"Right now, we have two possibilities," says Pads, her expression grim. "Either she's a Dynamic Character, which Victoria and Fletcher think she is, or she's a normal person infected with Sue traits. Both of which would be horrible outcomes."

"I've a question," says Netishka, raising her hand. "How does one become 'infected with Sue traits'?"

"Let's just say we have our methods of dealing with archives overrun with Sues," says Sherry with a grimace, "and they're not often pretty. We'll explain everything later, but all you need to know is that more than often they end up in the balance of Sue traits being upset and these qualities floating around and infecting people."

_And causing them to turn insane_, I think to myself, but once more I keep this private. "So what do we do about her?" asks Iris, her expression serious. "Kick her out?"

"Mindwipe her," quips Jeremy.

"There's an idea," agrees Dem, "but doesn't everything depend on _how_ threatening she actually is? Pads – you're the expert on all things writing. What kind of danger does this Dynamic Character pose?"

"That's just it," Pads says uneasily. "We don't know."

"From what I know about DCs – which isn't much, mind you – there are so few of them in existence that no one's been able to document their behavioural patterns," Marm adds. "So all we know about them is that they're immensely powerful, and . . . I suppose she could be used to turn the tide."

"In what?" Netishka asks, brow furrowing. Jess and I exchange grim glances. "In the War," we say in unison, utterly serious.

There's a collective sigh of dismay from all of Head Command, our breaths hissing through our teeth. The War is something that we've actually been anticipating for a while now – the final showdown between the Sues and well, us. According to our predictions, the War is just barely starting, and will be launched into full swing when the Sues find the CCC – our main base, that is. This is everything we've stood for. Everything we stand for. Everything that we will ever stand for.

This is it.

Our Oracles have foreseen this moment for a long time – Rachel estimates we have a month, maybe less. Head Command – we'll be at the heart of it, directing the battle and paving the way. We will be safe – but others' lives, we cannot guarantee.

"Do – do the others know what they're up for?" Jeremy says at long last. Alex swallows – he's _nervous?_ – and says, "No, not really. We – we haven't told them yet. Because we can't be sure that they'll be safe. And if _we_ lose this War — everything will be over."

"Explain," says Iris. Her face is tight; her expression pained.

"Well," says Sherry, pressing her lips into a hard line. "In the best case scenario, we'll be turned out onto the streets and be hunted down by the Sues. The luckier ones will find their way to strongholds — maybe Fowl Manor. But the rest of us – we'll live our lives as homeless fugitives."

"And in the worst case scenario?" asks Marm, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to them as if warding off a bright light.

"We'll – we'll be enslaved by the Sues," Sherry admits.

"And Head Command?" asks Pads. "What about us? Will we stick together in these times of distress?"

My eyes seek out Jess', and we regard each other for a long time, sending invisible and silent messages through our eyes. Finally I break away, and my voice is soft.

"Of course we will."

**iii.**  
>"Verity! Hey, Verity!" Cassiel's voice echoes down the corridor after me as I stride off towards the Care Centres, prepared for another shift with Holly Short. I close my eyes, whisper, <em>calm down, calm down,<em> before forcing a smile onto my lips and swiveling around to face him.

"Hi, Cassiel."

"Uh, hi," he says uncomfortably. "Vem . . . you — you seemed a little uncomfortable earlier . . . are we cool? As in, is everything between us okay? You, um, looked a little upset." I think my megawatt smile is starting to blind him. "Why would I be upset?"

"Because that Lilly kissed me."

I sigh and drop the façade, folding my arms across my chest. "Cassiel, what are you implying?"

"Nothing," he answers a little too quickly. "I — I just don't want you to be upset. Because we're friends, of course. I'm just worried about you – uh – platonically, and um – if you're upset with me or something, I'd rather you tell me."

I stare at him for a long time, without saying anything. His blue-green eyes remain fixed on mine, his gaze not once wavering. After about ten minutes, I sigh, and ask him, "Cassiel, what do you know about the War?"

**iv.**  
>"Are you sure we're allowed to just abandon our schedules like this?" Cassiel voices concernedly, glancing down at the time-table inked on the bare skin of his forearm. According to it, he's meant to be in the Fireplace, flaming away at Suethors and crack!authors, but instead we're heading down the concourse and towards the Library at the far end.<p>

I consult my own schedule briefly. "Of course we're allowed. I'm your Head, and I hereby give you permission. There. Now you're allowed." He manages a brief grin, keeping up with me with ease, one stride of his matching two of mine.

"How convenient."

"Naturally. Anyway, Vic and Fletch are still somewhere here, either smooching or checking up on Dynamic Characters," I say with a wave of my hand. Cassiel colours visibly at the word 'smooch', and I laugh at how uncomfortable he is. "Grow up."

"I was kissed by a random girl this morning," he shoots back. "Of course I feel uncomfortable." The fact that we're back to our usual, playful banter makes me smile, because everything finally feels normal again.

We reach the massive double doors, and I tap my identification card against the scanner at one side. "Verity Walker. Cleared," a robotic voice says. Cassiel follows me, and the voice says, "Cassiel James. Cleared."

The doors swing forwards on their hinges, revealing the Library, which is so enormous I can't even begin to describe it. Picture the largest room you've ever seen — whether it be ballroom, cavern, I don't care – then multiply that by two. Then multiply it by two again. And that wouldn't even be _half_ the size of the Library. We keep records of everything that ever existed in that Library, and we wouldn't be able to locate any of it if not for the Archivists, like Fletcher, who make sure that everything is arranged orderly and neatly.

Upon entering the Library, we're almost run over by an Archivist, Tanya, who goes streaking by with a cart loaded with books. "Sorry!" she calls over her shoulder, and we both respond with, "don't worry about it!" at the same time.

With brief grins at each other; we head over to the section marked 'W', and while Cassiel leans against a shelf at one end, I stalk alongst the aisles, running my fingers across the leather-bound spines of all the books, tracing the golden embossed letters. "What _exactly_ are you looking for?" Cassiel asks, observing the rows of books casually.

"Books on the War, of course," I answer absently; my mind is set on locating the right number. "There's a particularly enlightening volume by a certain Sherry Mayhew . . . damnit, don't we have at least five of them in here? Sherry would have made sure of it. Seriously . . . "

"Vem, you _do_ know that you're talking to yourself, right?"

"Certainly."

He exhales. "Okay, just checking."

"Where is it?" I ask myself again, eyes narrowing as I scrutinize each title carefully. "Oh, come on . . . _found it_!" My voice rises in pitch and I clamp a hand over my mouth the instant I realize how loud that was. Flushing embarrassedly at Cassiel's smirk, I extract the heavy book from where it's wedged between two other gigantic books and shove it into Cassiel's arms; he staggers slightly.

"Aren't you supposed to be more . . . muscular?" I wrinkle my nose. "You know, Quidditch Captain and all that? I'd have thought you'd be stronger."

"You know, Head Carer and all that," he mimicks, waving a hand dismissively. "I'd have thought you'd be smarter." I slap his bicep in retaliation, and he only laughs, heading over to one of the reading tables provided and setting the book down on the table gently. "Flip to the section labelled '_the truth about the war',_" I instruct him. With an eye roll he complies, heaving over a huge sheaf of paper to reveal a blank page with large block letters across the top; **THE TRUTH ABOUT THE WAR. **

I read over his shoulder as his eyes dart across the page.

_The War is a phenomenon that has been impending for a long period of time. Ever since the dawn of FF•Net, it has been predicted for years, and years, but somehow, the prophecies have never materialized, and the world of FF•Net has been thus far safe from the invading forces of the Mary Sues._

_However, even though this has been said many times, before, I must stress on this once more –_

_The Time for the War has come._

_Many have anticipated this day, the time when the forces of the Sues clash with the Protectors of the fandoms. Over the years, the Protectors have gone under many different names, but for now, they go under the name of the CCCO, the Canon Containment Centre Organisation. The CCC has worked long and hard at protecting every single Canon, and the CCC is also a place for the Canons to take refuge._

_The War will be fought long, and hard, and it is possible that the entire of the fanfiction world will be obliterated by the Sues who are too strong. The Sues are impeccable, flawless, and extremely gifted, while the Protectors are but normal human beings. Yes, normal human beings, but with a cause to fight for._

_The truth behind the war is that – the Protectors will never win. There is no chance, not even the slimmest of them, that the Protectors will win the War against the Sues. They are too powerful, and the Protectors are too weak – and so, when the time for the War comes, the CCC will be utterly, completely, destroyed._

He stops here, unable to read on, and shuts the book with a snap. Then he slumps into one of the chairs around the table and buries his face in his hands.

Awkwardly, I put an arm around him and pat him on the back gently. I feel his muscles tense beneath my fingertips, and he looks up at me, his eyes dry but red-rimmed. "Not many people have read this book, I'm guessing?" In response I shake my head solemnly, and he exhales sharply through his nose. "How – how long were you all intending on keeping it from us?"

"We didn't want to keep it from you," I say softly. "But the truth is – if people found out about this, they'd lose all hope. And we'd _definitely_ lose the War."

"The book says we'll lose anyway!" Cassiel pulls away from me, and then I know he's mad. He stands up, pushing his chair back from the table, and stalks away for a distance before swiveling around and starting to pace. "How could you keep such a thing from us?"

I shake my head helplessly. "We had no choice –"

"No choice?" he sounds incredulous, and extremely angry. "_No choice?_ Verity, people are going to _die_, and you're telling me you had no choice not telling them that the cause we fight for is _useless_, that we're going to _lose,_ that we're all going to be _destroyed_ or _enslaved_ to the Sues? How could you –"

"It wasn't my decision," I say desperately, biting my lip and struggling to hold back my tears. He sighs exasperatedly and continues pacing. "Cassiel, please –"

"Don't, Verity." His face is drawn, the light in his eyes is harsh. "You couldn't even have told _me_? Me, when I'm supposed to be your best friend, your confidante? We've been through so much together, Verity. Couldn't you have told me earlier? When did you find out?"

"Six months ago," I respond hesitantly. Cassiel gives a derisive laugh. "You know what, Verity? I don't think I know you. So who knows what other secrets you're hiding from me. And what was the point in telling me all this, anyway?" I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand. "You know what? I don't really want to know anyway. I don't even know whether you're going to tell the truth." His expression is hard. "So _screw you_, Verity, because you evidently don't think I'm good enough."

He stomps away, but at the corner he turns back with a searching look in his eyes. "You know what, Verity? I thought you were different, I really did. But you're just like the rest of them." Then he rounds the corner and disappears from sight.

It takes me a while to comprehend what just happened. But when it finally sinks in, it's all I can do not to curl up in a ball and cry.

**v.**  
>"What is <em>up<em> with you and Cassiel nowadays?" Jess demands as she perches on the edge of my bed, just about slipping off the duvet. She rolls her eyes. "Why on earth are you two always arguing?"

"He's mad at me for not telling him the truth about the war," I say moodily into my pillow. At my words, Jess gasps and snatches away the pillow, exposing me to the harsh fluorescent light from my bedside lamp.

"You _told_ him the truth about the war?"

"I showed it to him," I respond gloomily. She continues to stare at me, slack-jawed, her open mouth telling me everything. _I'm not supposed to tell him. He's not ready yet._ "Oh, come on, Jessica, we can't keep putting it off like this. They're going to find out someday. I told him because I was about to explain to him why I – why –" I swallow hard and go on. "– why I couldn't love him right now, but he just got mad. Because Miss Sherry Mayhew just _had_ to write that we're going to lose."

"If she didn't write we were going to lose, there wouldn't be a 'truth' about the War," says Jess, using her fingers to simulate air-quotes. "So he got angry because you're supposed to be best friends and shit like that?"

I glare at her. "There's no _shit_ about it, Jessica Hamilton. Cassiel _is_ my best friend." I tug my pillow back from her, nuzzling into its warmth. "Besides, I can't see why we can't tell them yet. Rachel's predicted it already – it's coming. We're going to have to tell them _eventually._"

"Right now, I think you should focus on solving your little problem with Cassiel," Jess says, smacking me lightly over the shoulder. "I think you should go apologise to him."

"Why am I always the one apologizing?" I demand of no one in particular, and Jess rolls her eyes again. "_Because_, you ninny, apologizing is the right thing to do. Besides, you're always in the wrong," she says with an elegant shrug of her shoulders. I nudge her, but silently agree; yes, I should most definitely apologise to Cassiel. But to do that, I have to find him first.

**vi.  
><strong>As I predicted, Cassiel's at the Quidditch pitch, zooming around the field like he always does when he's thinking. Don't have to be an Oracle to guess where a Quidditch Captain goes to be alone, now do you? I seat myself quietly in the stands and watch him fly for a while, until he comes to a stop in front of me and inquires, "enjoying the show?"

"How long have you known I was here?" I ask him with a small smile, mentally praying that he'll return it. He doesn't, but answers anyway. "Since you arrived. You're not exactly a master of stealth, now are you, Verity?" _Shit. _He's still calling me 'Verity' and not 'Vem'. This is most definitely a bad sign.

"Tell me," he says suddenly, turning his piercing blue-green eyes on me, "why did you tell the truth anyway? You could have just kept quiet until your precious Head Command decided that the rest of us were worthy of having such information imparted to." There's a slightly bitter edge to his voice. "And since I'm not any more special to you that they are, why did you tell me?"

I swallow hard; I hadn't anticipated this. "Cassiel . . . "

"Yes?" He arches his eyebrows, politely inquiring. I close my eyes and brace myself before taking the plunge and asking the next question. _Good Lord; what am I doing –?_

"How do you feel about me?"

"What?" he's taken aback by the question, maybe even slightly panicked. I bite the inside of my cheek and the pain is sobering, giving me the courage to continue speaking. "You heard what I said. How do you feel about me, honestly?"

"I –" Cassiel stammers, evidently he'd not expected me to be so forthright and direct. "You know . . . we're friends. Good friends. Really good friends." There's something vaguely satisfying about watching him blush and flounder; he's really adorable. "I – I don't know," he says uncertainly after a while. "I'm confused." After a pause, he says, "and . . . you?"

"There's definitely something," I say seriously, my eyes not once leaving his. "I don't know what it is, but it's there." His gaze is penetrating, as if he can see straight into my soul. "Why don't you tell me what it is?"

He takes a step towards me, and to my credit, I hold my ground. "Vem," he begins uncertainly, "I – I think I – I kind of –"

"K–kind of?" _He's much too close. This isn't what I expected. _I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to force myself to keep calm. "K–kind of what, exactly?"

He leans forward and closes his eyes.

**vii.**  
>"I can't do this," I tell him a minute later, pulling back before our lips can touch. He blinks, wide-eyed, and ridiculously cute with that messy bronze hair of his. "Why not?"<p>

"_This_ is why I showed you that book, Cassiel," I say, tears filling my eyes. By right, I should have been happy that he liked me that way, but I was conflicted and confused and overall upset. "Because I was – I was feeling that – I can't, Cassiel, I just can't." I blink back my tears, but he's seen them.

He crushes me to his chest in an instant. "I won't lose you."

"This is why I'm afraid," I say, giving a watery chuckle. "You're so headstrong and brave and determined – I know you'll do anything to protect me. And that's exactly what I'm afraid of, Cassiel. I can't lose _you._" He doesn't say a thing, just wordlessly embraces me. "This is why everything would be better if we were just friends," I say bitterly. "If we were just best friends – without the occasional flirting, everything would be so much easier."

"Flirting is good," he mumbles into my hair. I laugh through my tears; "at the right times," I answer, and pull back.

"This is why I told you, Cassiel. I hope you understand how I feel now."

He shakes his head, slightly. "You confuse me, Vem. Sometimes I think we're moving forwards, but then you surprise me and we take five steps back. It's confusing, and if you were any other person, I'd give up. But we've been friends, _best friends,_ for so long. I understand you better than anyone. And if I gave up, you'd have no one."

"Not _no _one," I object, slightly insulted, and he laughs. The tense moment's passed, Cassiel is _not_ going to kiss me, and I am not going to let him kiss me either. "I showed you that book because this is it. I can't, Cassiel, I can't do this. I'm going to just — lock away my feelings, and then it'll all be over. At least until the War passes." I close my eyes and exhale. When I open them, he's still watching me.

"Please understand."

"I don't," Cassiel answers immediately. "I don't understand your logic, Verity. Showing me that book — what was it even for? Were you _breaking up_ with me back there? Did you think that if you showed me why you couldn't be with me, I'd give up?"

"Cassiel, you can't break up with someone if you weren't even together."

"Regardless," he said, ignoring me, "I'm not going to give up. Far from it." He swung his leg over his broom once more and flashed me his signature grin. "So, good luck getting rid of me, Verity Walker, but it isn't going to happen."

"Cassiel —" he kicks off and soars away before I can warn him not to try anything, streaking across the pitch and out of sight.

I sit down, bury my face in my hands, and groan.

**viii.**  
>"Someone's in a considerably better mood," says Pads as I arrive at our table in time for dinner. I make a face at her, and she just smirks, turning to Jeremy, who smirks as well. "I'm betting something finally went right with one Cassiel James."<p>

"Not _right_," I say empathetically to him. Then I whirl around to glare at Jess, who just stabs her pie and pretends not to have noticed. "You _told_ them?"

"Uh, it wasn't that hard to guess," chips in Iris, and I blush. The others all laugh, and my eyes sweep around the circle of the table, noting that Victoria and Fletcher are still missing. Strange, I didn't come across them in the Library — lucky thing, too, otherwise more people would have known that I'd told him the truth behind the War. At this point, only Jess knows, and she obviously hasn't told the others or they'd be on to me like flies to flypaper.

"Where are Victoria and Fletcher?"

"Still somewhere in the Library making faces at one another," Netishka suggests innocently, and everyone else snickers again. Sherry looks mollified, and Dem suppresses a smile.

"Really, though, they haven't returned." Marm answers my question, "and no one really knows where they are right now."

"The so-called Romancer has been delivered to the Rooms," Alex informs me. "Sherry's Unspeakables are working on her as we speak." We all groan as the lame pun sets in, but Alex and Jeremy behave as though it is the joke of the century, exchanging fist-bumps and a complicated handshake that they obviously came up with.

I slip into my seat, and find, to my immense surprise, that someone has fetched an apple parfait for me, presumably Jess. I turn to her, and before I can say anything, she waves her steak-and-kidney-pie-stained fork in the air dismissively. "Uh, you always eat the same thing anyway."

"Thanks," I say happily and slurp at my parfait, shoving a chunk of apple into my mouth simultaneously. After all the business with Cassiel, sugar is exactly what I need. I eat more rapidly than I have ever consumed a parfait before, and the others notice.

"Whoah, Verity, chill much?" Iris says.

Even Sherry looks concerned. "Verity, you're going to choke." But before she can go on and presumably launch into one of her long lectures on the danger of eating too quickly, our conversation is rudely interrupted by Alli's hurried arrival. "Sherry — hey Jeremy — you need to come, quickly. Shit is going down in the reception area." Sherry's eyes narrow, and Jeremy looks confused by his mention.

"What's going on, Allison?" Dem asks before Sherry can even say anything.

Alli just shakes her head. "You just _have _to see, all of you. Come on!" She stands and scrambles off in the direction of reception before anyone can even react. A terse silence settles on the Head table.

Then Sherry stands. "Well," she says, her face contorting as though at the thought of something unpleasant, "we might as well go check it out."

**ix.**  
>"This is bad."<p>

I don't see why, to be honest. For some reason, when Alli had been so panicked, I'd expected the reception area to be wrecked beyond belief. But all I see is Jolyn, sitting calmly at her desk, with about twenty members of the CCC passed out in various positions, all around the room. Among them is Alexa, one of our Carers, and I rush to her, feeling for a pulse. Thankfully, it throbs steadily under my fingers. "They're just unconscious," Jeremy and I say at the same time; he's crouched over another body.

Marm takes a sharp breath. "But — this is —"

"_How_?" Jess asks.

"_Why_?" Iris quips.

Sherry's expression is grim. She rushes over to Jolyn, who continues tapping at her computer. "Jolyn. Has anyone passed through here today?"

"A girl came through just now. She was trying to talk to me and get a position as Unspeakable, and as she talked, all these people started coming in and trying to talk to her." Jolyn doesn't act as though she thinks anything was wrong, even surrounded by piles of unconscious bodies. "But I told her no, and then she screamed. Everybody fainted. She left after I pointed her to the tour area."

Sherry straightens and returns to our huddle, where we anxiously await her. "Sherry, what happened?" I ask her.

Alex's eyes meet hers. "Tell me it isn't what I think it is."

"We are very lucky that we have a clear-sighted receptionist," Sherry simply tells us, leaving the rest of us hanging. She, Dem, Marm and Alex all exchange dark looks while the rest of us just look unanimously confused.

Pads rests a hand on Alex's elbow. "I don't understand. Mind explaining to the less knowledgable?"

"Someone came through here," he said, gesturing to the unconscious people. "Someone powerful. Someone we dread."

Around me, everyone seems to get it, first Netishka, then Iris, then Jeremy, then Pads, then Jess. I'm still lost glancing at everyone helplessly. "What? What are you talking about?" I burst out, unwilling to be in the dark any longer.

"What Alex means to say," Sherry says, in a low, flat voice, "is that there is a Mary Sue loose in the CCC."

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><p><strong>AN – **please review! (:


	6. The Mary Sue Intruder

**A/N — **… surprise, I'm still writing this! It's been about four months since my last update, so I figured I might as well get around to doing it ^^; I recently reread this story and decided, meh, even though I don't like where it's heading I still fancy the idea enough to continue writing about it, so we'll see how this thing turns out :P

Thanks for reading, and do review!

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><p>▒ What The Door Conceals ▒<br>by **kaworu nagisa**

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><p>Chapter Five – <em>The Mary Sue Intruder<em>

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><p><strong>i.<strong>  
>Everyone takes the news better than I expected. I, too, for some reason, remain calm instead of going into a frenzy, which is what I would have expected myself to do. Out of all of us, Sherry is easily the most composed, her eyebrows drawing together in her usual serious mask. "We must take action immediately."<p>

"Okay, so what can we do?" Jeremy tilts his head to one side.

"Step One," Alex voices; all our eyes dart to him instantly. "Stay calm. But since we've got that down; Step Two, find the Sue."

"Easier said than done, of course," Marm takes over smoothly. "Since this is obviously _not_ an accidental venture in here, the Sue is here for something. We have to find out what that is and quickly protect it, as well as apprehend the Sue and escort her to the Rooms."

"But this is hardly a covert operation, is it?" Iris asks, wrinkling her nose. "They're not being really discreet, are they?"

"Yeah," Netishka echoes, "coming in through the front door and knocking a whole room of people unconscious isn't really being very subtle. It's like they're _asking_ us to pay attention to them."

"There's something very wrong about this," Sherry says. Her eyebrows remain knitted, her lips pressed together so firmly they turn white. Her eyes flash to me. "Verity. Go find Victoria and Fletcher and bring them to up to speed. Everyone else, we'll start looking. Go to your respective departments — but tell no one what you're looking for. We don't want widespread panic."

Dem tilts her head. "Well, I don't think it really matters if you tell one person; get them to help you. Besides," she says, giving me a look, "There are some people who tell those people anyway."

I flush and look away, and uneasy laughter breaks out in the circle. "One person," Dem reaffirms. "One person you really, really trust."

"Got it," I say, and everyone, similarly, utters phrases of acknowledgement.

"Everyone, remember to wear your comunicuffs so we can stay in constant contact," Marm calls, raising her own wrist to reveal her comunicuff. I don't usually wear my comunicuff but I keep it with me at all times, so now I extract it from my pocket and slap it around my wrist. The screen flickers to life, spelling out two words: HEAD COMMAND.

"Shall we conduct a test?" Alex suggests, and one by one, all of us hit the "speak" button and say a single word, "test." Each time, the voices emanate from all our comunicuffs, indicating that the channel is working.

"Right. Marm, Dem, Alex, you know where to go. Vic'll know where to go too," she says to me. Sherry's gaze is hard, and she regards each of us in turn before nodding. "Good luck, everyone. Let's go."

**ii.**  
>I find Victoria and Fletcher in the Archives, up to their knees in books on Mary Sues, not a single word passing between them. Their only form of communication is a piece of paper they pass swiftly to each other — the same piece of paper I handed Fletcher the previous day regarding Nico di Angelo's dream. I feel slightly bad for interrupting them, but it has to be done.<p>

"Ech-hem."

Both of them look like deer trapped in headlights as I emerge from behind a shelf and into the little alcove they're doing their research in. Victoria recovers first. "Yes, Verity?"

"I don't know if you've heard … but there's a bit of an emergency going on."

"A bit of an emergency?" Fletcher echoes in his usual silent tone.

"Yeah." I bite my lip. "There's … a Mary Sue loose in the CCC." Before I can complete my sentence, both of them react — Victoria stands up, slapping her comunicuff over her wrist, but Fletcher grabs her sleeve. "You can't," he says. "It's dangerous."

"It's my duty." Victoria attempts to shake him off, but he holds firm.

"Huh?" It's my turn to be confused. "What's going on?"

"If there's a Mary Sue here," Victoria says slowly, "it means the Sue army is coming. Which means … we have to get our defense ready."

"You don't know that," Fletcher argues, and then he stands too, drawing himself to his full height — one whole head taller than her. I've never heard him speak with such fervent passion before. "You don't know that the entire army is here. It could just be one person. Please, Vic." He adds. I blink; that's probably the most he's ever said in front of me: I don't know whether he's reasonably more chatty with Victoria, but it's still surprising to me. "Wait for the right time."

She won't look him in the eye. "Fine." Now she turns to look at me while Fletcher exhales in obvious relief. "What are Sherry's instructions?"

"Find the Sue," I relayed dutifully. "Fletcher, you're supposed to search the Archives; Victoria, she says you know where to go."

Fletcher nods, switching his comunicuff on, and Victoria straightens. "Yes, I do. I'll see you two later." She moves to walk past me, but I can't let her go without knowing. "Victoria … where, exactly, is that place?"

"The Dungeons," she says, and then she's gone.

**iii.**  
>I feel slightly apprehensive as I hurry across to the Care Centres, what with the knowledge that there is a <em>Mary Sue <em>loose in the CCC and that it's up to me and a few others to find her before it's too late. I already know who I'm going to tell — Cassiel. If anything, in times like these, I need his help and his support. Call me biased, but it's the sad truth — I have no one else to tell. He's my best friend.

I flash my pass at the scanner and burst through the front doors as though in a frenzy before I can remind myself to calm down. _Calm down calm down calm down,_ I chant in my head as I force a smile at some passing Carers and check a screen on the opposite wall, which constantly morphs, relaying who is Caring for who at the current moment.

I all but erupt into Rory Williams' room, and hurriedly apologise for the intrusion before dragging Cassiel out of there.

"Whoah, whoah," Cassiel says, holding up his palms in front of me as though trying to ward me off. "Calm down before you speak." I'm out of breath, not because I'd been running, but more due to the panic that's coursing through my veins at this current moment.

"Cassiel," I gasp out, "there's a Mary Sue loose in the CCC and only Head Command and a few others know about it and I need your help to find her." I phrase it as best as I can. Thankfully no one passes through the corridor we're in, which could lead to disastrous results. Cassiel blinks.

"What on _earth_ —?"

"I'm sorry I'm throwing this on you," I blurt, and then words come flooding out like literary vomit. "I'm sorry I'm always depending on you and dropping all these huge bombshells on you but I'm serious I have no idea what to do and I don't know what to think and I really, really, really just want to curl up in a ball and cry so —"

"Verity," Cassiel says, slowly. "I am not _angry_ with you! Just calm down, compose yourself — of _course_ I'll help you. How could you think otherwise, even for a moment?" He sounds slightly pissed that that train of thought would have passed through my mind, and I almost start crying in relief.

"Oh God," I say, wiping my half-watery eyes. "I don't deserve you. I really don't."

"Oh please," he says, with a dismissive roll of his eyes. "You deserve much better. _Now_," he says, gripping my hands tightly, "where do we start?"

"We're assigned to the Care Centres," I say. "I'll take Blocks A to C and you take Blocks D to F. We'll meet in Block G and then go through the rest together. We have to do this as quick as possible, but attract as little attention as possible."

"Got it." Cassiel says, squeezing my hands. "And stop being so silly." He drops a quick kiss on my forehead before heading off.

I shake the post-Cassiel daze that's threatening to come over me off and force myself to _focus._ All I need right now is for something like that to distract me, and that could mean the difference between life and death. I don't think the situation has ever been so dire.

I brace myself quickly before turning in the opposite direction.

**iv.**  
>Half an hour has gone by, and still nothing. I'm just passing through Hallway 11 in Block C when Sherry's voice speaks up from my comunicuff. "Anyone?"<p>

"Nothing," Iris says.

"Nope," Jeremy responds. One by one the other members state that they've found nothing, either. I run the hallways through my mind, ensuring that I remember passing through each one. For some reason, I can't seem to recall checking Hallway 6 in Block B, but since I've covered both Hallways 5 and 7, I must have. I lift my wrist to my mouth to speak as well, but then my blood runs cold.

On my forearm is a single mark.

It could have been an accident, I know, so I turn around and head as swiftly as I can back to Block B, my heart palpitating. I remember setting course for Hallway 6, but the next thing I know, I'm in Hallway 7.

There's a second mark on my arm.

Now I start to panic, hitting the 'speak' button on my comunicuff and all but shouting, "Block B! Hallway 6! The Care Centres!" I'm near catatonic, I can't seem to catch my breath, and my heart is slamming so hard against my ribcage it's about to burst right out of my chest. I lean against a wall, choking as voices come flooding across the channel.

Out of all of them, Sherry's rings the clearest. "Verity! Verity, are you sure?"

"No," I manage.

She sounds dissatisfied. "Did you see her with your own eyes? What was she doing? What did she do to you? Did you make contact with her?"

"I don't know," I say, going into a full-scale nervous breakdown. I never thought that I would in my life encounter them — I've been told how to react when I see them, but that doesn't stop me from being wholly, utterly, terrified. "I don't know. I don't know anything. I don't know."

Victoria now, her voice serious and utterly grim. "Then how do you know she's there?"

"Tally marks," I get out. "Tally marks on my arm." Gasps from all the other members of Head Command, including Jeremy going, "shit."

I can't breathe anymore. "She's allied herself with the Silence."

**v.**  
>The first to find me is Cassiel, which makes the most sense, because he's the nearest to me. I don't know how he knew, seeing as we had no means of communication, but he must have come looking for me. By the time he arrives and pulls me into a tight hug on seeing my catatonic state, there are seven marks on my arm. After that, it doesn't take much time for the others to arrive at Hallway 7.<p>

When Pads, the last member of Head Command to arrive, steps into the hallway, there are eight marks on my arm and one on everybody else's.

"We can't fight the Silence without eyedrives," Netishka speaks up, and that's the only thing we can agree on. Everybody else has varying views on how we should tackle the situation — I think we should stay as far away as possible, Jeremy thinks we should just fight them, Sherry thinks we should fall back and strategise, so on and so forth.

There are a few other faces here too, the select few that other members of Head Command have chosen to confide in — Jessica's deputy, Jay Parker, is here; he shifts uncomfortably in the background, obviously out of place, and also present is Alli, which I am quite happy to see. Not only because she's my friend, but also because this means she and Jeremy are getting closer, and in these dark times I'm glad they both have someone to confide in. Asides from them, I also see Joan Markham, an Experimenter friend of Pads and the most surprising of all, Mara White.

Like I've said, Mara White is mostly a mystery — all we know about her is that she's one of our three founders, along with Victoria and Sherry, and that she heads the Training Centre, located off the main compound. What they do is no secret, but we've never seen it in action — nor Mara, for that matter. The fact that Mara is here makes it even more serious — Sherry and Victoria wouldn't have called her here if the situation wasn't at its most dire.

"Sherry," Victoria says, "are we in stock of eyedrives?"

For the first time since she materialized soundlessly behind me in her black ensemble, Mara White speaks up. Her voice is low-pitched and without the faintest hint of a smile in it, like Victoria's. "I can dispatch some of my best at a moment's notice."

"I think that would be the best idea," agrees Victoria. She, Sherry and Mara all share a glance. The rest of us fall silent, holding our breaths, not daring to interrupt a conversation between our three heads. My eyes remain on Mara White; I can't even see her entire face behind the black handkerchief tied around her nose and mouth, but I can see her dark hair spilling over the nape of her neck, see the crease between her dark eyes. For some reason, despite the fact I don't know anything about her, she seems to be the most formidable person I've encountered in a long time.

"Wait," says Alex, holding up a hand. "So, what do the rest of us do? Wait it out?"

"We_ refuse_," says Jeremy stubbornly, and the entire circle nods in agreement.

Sherry looks pained. "Everyone, please — for one, we're not warriors. We're not trained. We can't hold out against the Silence — while others might, we definitely cannot."

"But there has to be _something_ we can do," argues Iris. "Do you really expect all of us to remain calm and sit obediently in a corner while others are risking their _lives_ on the front line, for the same cause as we have? We're supposed to be _Head Command,_ Sherry. We can't just —"

"Yeah, we can't just sit around —"

"We're not going to —"

"You can't make us —" Soon everybody is agreeing and chiming in; the only silent one is Fletcher, who just stands there with his eyes on Victoria, obviously watching for her response. I watch the two of them silently argue, until Victoria sighs and turns away to the protesting others.

"Enough," says Mara White. Everybody falls silent at once, and Mara looks to Victoria, who takes over swiftly.

"I'm sorry you all feel this way. But as Sherry has pointed out, we're not trained. Even if we tried, we'd probably just be a liability to Mara and her soldiers." Hearing it from Victoria's mouth makes it more official; we're definitely not going to be able to help anymore. "But we're going to need your help in other areas. Make sure no word of this gets out anywhere. Verity," her gaze drops to me, "you're going to have to reschedule everything. Make sure none of your Carers come near this block. The rest of you, help coordinate the movement of the Canons from this block. Besides," Victoria says, a wry smile quirking the corner of her mouth, "you're going to have your hands full, too. Moving everyone out yet making sure no one panics? That's a pretty tall order."

Some people laugh. Others remain pensive in thought.

Mara White claps her hands once, and almost instantaneously three others, clothed similarly in black, flank her. Their appearance is so startling some of us almost fall over, but she doesn't seem perturbed in the least. "These are my lieutenants — Jennifer, Fannie, and Sylvester." She indicates each of them in turn; Fannie is the only one to wave. "They'll be sealing off this corridor in preparation for our operation. Alright," she says, now addressing the group. "You know who we're up against — the Silence and a Mary Sue. You know the protocol for dealing with the Silence — you see them, you make a tally mark on your arm, you know you've seen them. The Mary Sue — we have no idea. We don't know what powers she has."

"Speaking of which, we'll probably equip each of you with an eyedrive," Sherry says with a slight frown. "It's likely to cause some confusion and perhaps even some questions, but most won't know what they're for. Just say it's some new virtual system Head Command is trying out."

I don't understand how we can be standing here discussing this so calmly while the Silence and one of the most dangerous beings in the entire of FF·net is in the next corridor. Right now, the only things keeping me sane are Cassiel's arm on my elbow and the fact that I'm in familiar territory — Care Centre B. But the fact that this is so close to home just terrifies me further.

"For now, you are dismissed." Sherry says. "Return to your schedules. Go on with your lives." Her eyes meet Victoria's and Mara's. "But be on standby for further orders."

There isn't really anything more that can be said.

**vi.**  
>The eyedrives come the next day. They're slightly uncomfortable, pieces of unknown material that meld to your eye and sink into the contours of your eye socket — I wouldn't mind it so much if not for the fact that being blind in one eye throws me off balance and disrupts my perception.<p>

Shifting everyone out of Block B is driving me nuts — we have about two thousand Canons, give or take, in that block alone. The block itself doesn't seem that large; we've extended it to about fifty times its apparent size with Undetectable Extension Charms. Furthermore, I'm doing it with only _one usable eye._ Naturally, that doesn't contribute in any way to the difficulties I've been having, but between the eyedrives and my overwork, I'm going mad.

I turn the corner and for the billionth time, crash into someone, sending my paperwork flying all over the place. "Sorry," I exhale exasperatedly, and drop to my knees instantly, crawling around in trying to retrieve everything.

"No problem," says the Carer I bumped into. I blink.

"Alexa? You've been discharged?"

"Yeah," she says with a bright smile. My eyes widen further, and I clutch at her arms. "Do you remember anything? What happened? What does she look like? What kind of powers did she use against you?"

"Hey, calm down," Alexa laughs, but her expression turns serious. "I remember … vaguely. It's like I was drunk or something — like I wasn't in my right mind? But I remember everything that happened. One minute I was turning in some paperwork … and then I heard a voice. A voice which seemed to entrance me, and before I knew it I was following that voice, heavily intoxicated, all the way to the reception office."

Here she takes a deep breath. "And there I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. Pale blond hair, skin as white as snow, eyes like limpid tears …" I pinch her at this point, and her vision clears. "Sorry," she says embarrassedly. "It's kind of the aftereffect. Anyway, I saw that girl, and I knew I had to talk to her, get to know her, be her best friend. So I started trying, but there were about twenty others also trying to talk to her, and we started fighting — and then nothing." In accordance with Jolyn's story, at this point in time, the girl screamed, and everyone passed out. I take a deep breath, thank Alexa, and move on.

The powers of the Sues are greater than I thought. To be able to hypnotise people like that … it would be invaluable in the war. _God,_ I think,_ help us. Turns out we're even more screwed than before._

At that moment, my comunicuff crackles to life, and in a flash it's by my lips; my voice mingles with the nine other people all shouting, "what what what" down the channel. Sherry clears her throat, and my heart soars.

"We have her," Sherry says. "The Sue."

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><p><strong>AN** — this is a short update, expect the next chapter sometime soon! again, do review (:


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